The Princess and the Fool
by Stuart Pidasso
Summary: When a chance encounter turns a tanner apprentice into a fool, Eryck Leder will unexpectedly find himself serving the sisters Cerenna and Myrielle Lannister at the behest of their brother, Ser Daven. Though Eryck is not really a fool, and neither sister a
1. The Books

**Author's Note:** An astute knowledge of The Song of Ice and Fire is not required to follow this fan fiction. This story mostly focuses around Lannister characters briefly mentioned in the books, of which were never introduced in the HBO series, Game of Thrones. Cersei and Jaime Lannister make a brief appearance, but their back-story is not necessarily to follow this tale.

If you are caught up with the HBO series, there will be no spoilers. If you are currently reading the books, only those of you who have not read up to book five, A Dance with Dragons, will need to be concerned. If you proceed, you will encounter two or three spoilers.

If you have zero knowledge of this series, you can still enjoy this story. Set in an age of swords and magic, the only thing you need to know is that the Lannisters currently rule Westeros, a land of seven kingdoms.

Eryck Leder, our protagonist, is an original character who you will follow as he becomes entangled with the Lannister family.

The siblings Daven, Cerenna, and Myrielle Lannister live in the family castle known as Casterly Rock, located in the Westerlands, a hard day's ride from the capital of King's Landing. At this point in the story, Daven has just been appointed The Warden of the West by his cousin, Queen Cersei. The sisters, beautiful and of age, have remained unmarried, though strategic arranged marriages are likely in their future.

The widowed Queen, Cersei Baratheon (Lannister by birth), is a devoted mother who fiercely guards her children. As she mourns two recent deaths in her family (but not her husband's), she continues to govern the Seven Kingdoms as Queen Regent. Later, when her son comes of age and is crowned king, she will lose her title.

Her brother Ser Jaime, the Commander of the Kingsguard, has spent his life serving the Iron Throne, his sword dutifully at the ready—especially for his sister.

**4/20/15 UPDATE: With the story complete, I've made Kindle friendly and other ebook versions available for free on my website www dot stuartpidasso dot com**

Here begins _The Princess and the Fool_.

**01 The Books**

Standing before a pool of cold toxic water, Eryck Leder gazed down at the raw horsehide soaking in a lime bath. Built into the floor of the tannery workshop, the shallow concrete tank, the size of two bathtubs side by side, held the foul mixture that aided the turning of animal hides into leather, a mixture that reminded the young tanner of a stagnant swamp.

Swallowing back the bile taste that frequently sullied his throat, Eryck patiently waited for his friend Tobin to assist him with the pulling of the heavy, water-soaked hide from the grey water. As he prepared himself, Eryck caught another whiff of foul air rising from the tank as the outside winds lessoned, halting the breeze that normally ventilated the straw thatched building through an open set of large double doors.

Tobin noticed Eryck displeasure as he approached and chuckled. "Ah, come on. That's the smell of money."

"That's the smell of death," replied Eryck. "No. It's worse than death. Only man could go out his way to make death smell worse."

Rolling up his sleeves to keep them dry, Tobin prepared himself to help Eryck. "I don't even smell it anymore."

"I don't know how you do it."

"Do what?" asked Tobin.

"Not become sick from it," replied Eryck.

The large man shrugged. "Not skipping your midday meal for one. An empty stomach will only worsen your nausea."

"I do normally eat on our break, but I skipped eating today since I have to deliver the finished goatskins to the bookbinder later this afternoon. It's preferable to eat my food while I walk, away from here, in the fresh air."

Tobin stepped to the nearest wall to retrieved two short metal hooks, passing one to Eryck. "Well, let's get this over with. We don't want you walking home in the dark."

The two young men each took a hook and began probing in the cold lime bath until each had found a corner of the large horsehide. Making sure that the hair side would be up, the men prepared themselves for the heavy pull. After a nod from Tobin, they pulled the water soaked hide, weighing as much as two grown men, out of the water. Once enough of the hide had surfaced, the men used their bare hands to pull the hide the short distance onto a rounded wood stump, which stood at a forty-five degree slope. Grunting from the effort, they pulled the horsehide up onto the work surface until the leading edge reached the top of the stump.

Tobin slapped Eryck on the shoulder, leaving a limewater imprint on his friend's shirt. "There you go buddy. Give me a holler once you finish the dehairing."

"Right, thank you," said Eryck as he inspected his shoulder.

Tobin took a quick look at the underside of the hide. "Scudding the fat side should be easy, being this horse."

Eryck bent over to inspect the fatty side of the hide. "I hope so, but this was one of our lordship's horses and was fed better. It's not as lean as the other horse hides we get."

"Still easier than cowhide," commented Tobin. "Plus, you can put your weight more into it."

"True." Eryck picked up his dehairing tool, a dull, curved blade with handles on both ends.

As his friend returned to his own work, Eryck began scrubbing the hairs from the hide by pushing his tool down and away over the flesh. Working meticulously, he made sure that all the hairs had been removed before calling for his other friend, Ryver, to help him position the hide with the fatty side up over the rounded stump.

Using a different tool that looked similar—only sharper, Eryck proceeded to scrape the fat and other loose tissue from the hide. This was the true reason he skipped his midday meal, for the smell of the congealing fat that stuck to the scraping blade caused him to occasionally pause and retch dryly, an act now so common to him and Ryver that there was no second thought to their sickly environment.

Once the horsehide had been dehaired and the fat scudded, which pressed out the lime water to drain back into the liming pool, Eryck dragged the hide across the room to the two foot by five foot bating tank at the end of the room—skin side up so not to scratch the finished surface.

When Eryck lifted the wood cover to the heated tank of slurry, he retched dryly from the fumes. Holding his breath, he quickly lifted the horsehide into the concrete bating tank. This mixture of heated water and various animal manures delimed and softened the animal hide—a recipe passed down through generations sworn to by his employer, which produced the finest leather in all of Westeros. Replacing the wood cover, Eryck proceeded outside to add a couple logs to the furnace, which heated the slurry tank through concrete air passages underneath.

With the most offensive work completed, Eryck washed up behind the tannery using cold water and lye soap. He dressed in his second set of clothes that were washed and hung the day before. Finally, he donned a pair of simple leather sandals that would not carry the foul smell of the tannery through the town of Lannisport—which was more noticeable when he wore his work boots. Collecting the leathered goatskins, he bundled the lot together before tossing them over his shoulder.

Eryck began his trek to the bookbinder, which took him upwind towards town, but soon slipped off the road into the nearby forest. He traveled along a faint trail that took him over a hill, out of sight of the main road. Here, he entered his makeshift shelter that he called home.

Unlike the two other tannery apprentices, Tobin and Ryver, who shared a hut on the tannery grounds, Eryck preferred the seclusion of the forest. Though the woods were feared for bandits—and anything else that liked to lurk in the shadows, Eryck gave little worry to these since his shack had remained undiscovered by anyone—or _anything_—for the past six years. Unconcerned with _shadows_, Eryck would simply smile when people in the taverns shared their 'ghost stories' over meals. He did not believe in their ghostly tales—or magic, for he knew that monsters only lived in the hearts of men.

Inside his shack, Eryck opened a waterproof leather pouch and removed two leather bound books. He flipped through the pages of one of the books and smiled, remembering the many tales within documented by various ship captains. This book was an accumulation of recent discoveries, bound yearly to keep the queen and various lords informed about the world in general. The other book contained the latest observations and drawing of human anatomy. Both splendid texts destined for Casterly Rock's growing library.

Inserting both books into a large satchel hung over his shoulder, Eryck slipped back onto the main road and proceeded to the castle. Known by the guards, Eryck passed through a small servant gate and proceeded to a side entrance where the castle steward, Mr. Spyre, greeted him.

As Eryck pulled out the heavy books from the satchel, he noticed that the steward needed the assistance of a walking stick. "I have two books for delivery."

The steward wrinkled his nose and said. "Thank you, Mr. Leder. I'll make sure these get to the library with all the others."

"Did you hurt your leg, Mr. Spyre?"

"Hmm, yes. Not that it is any of your concern."

"If you'd like, I could carry them to the library for you."

Staring blankly at Eryck, the older man calmly raised one brow and said, "You?"

"The books are heavy. Just thought that I'd offer my assistance." Eryck glanced past the man and inhaled deeply when his nose detected roasting pig wafting from the nearby kitchen. "Your kitchen smells wonderful."

"If the kitchen is to continue smelling _wonderful_, I shan't let you inside."

"What? Do I smell that bad?" asked Eryck with a wry smile. "Tanning is a smelly business; don't you know."

The steward frowned. "Yes, we do know. You've been trying to enter this castle for years. What makes you think today is the day I let you into our lordship's castle?"

"I don't, but it doesn't hurt to keep trying."

"I'm curious. If I should lose my wits and actually invite you inside, what do you hope to find?"

Eryck shrugged. "I don't know. I suspect bountiful art and other various craftsmanship. If I knew, I would not ask; would I?"

The steward sighed his disapproval through his nose. Tightening his grip around the two books, he took a hobbled step back and said, "Good day to you, Mr. Leder."

"Good day to—," replied Eryck as the door closed in his face. Tossing his bundled goatskins over his shoulder, he turned to leave when he spotted the castle's cook sitting outside on a stool as she prepared various vegetables. "Hello, Bessie," he called out.

"Hi, Eryck."

The young tanner stepped closer. "Still preparing for dinner?"

"I'm always preparing," replied Bessie, sounding terse. "If I'm not preparing for an upcoming meal, I'm preparing for the meal after that."

"Your cooking smells wonderful as always."

Bessie smiled. "Thank you. If only you would come a little later each week, I could sneak you a plate."

"Don't fret. I don't want to be a bother."

Glancing about for onlookers, the cook took a couple washed carrots and shoved them into one of Eryck's side pockets. "A little something for your journey."

"Don't get yourself into trouble."

"Don't fret, my boy. _These_ you found on the road. They must have fallen from a small garden wagon."

"Garden wagons do bounce around a lot," said a smiling Eryck as he made sure the carrots sunk deep into his pocket, out of sight. "Bessie, how bad do I smell?"

"No worse than some of the farmers. Why?"

"Every time I drop off books, the steward goes out of his way to prevent me from stepping inside the castle."

"Ah, don't take it personal. He's more worried that Ser Damion or Ser Daven will show up, and he'd have to explain your presence. If it were up to me, I'd find a way to give you a tour. But as things stand, the most you could expect from me is a tour of my kitchen, and even that isn't all that exciting."

"It smells exciting." Eryck winked at the castle cook.

"Go on with ya now," said the blushing Bessie, shaking her head.

When Eryck cleared the castle walls, out of sight of the towers, he pulled one of the carrots from his pocket and began to take small bites as he continued along the outskirts of the city. Preferring the scenic route to avoid the crowds at the market, he walked along the fringe of Lannisport as he neared the bookbinder's shoppe.

Finishing the first carrot, he prepared to toss the stalk into a small clump of trees when something unusual caught his eye.

Up in the tree, a white owl sat calmly on a branch. The creature appeared to be watching him, and this brought Eryck to a stop as he began to stare back inquisitively, for the bird lacked the traditional markings of a spotted snow owl. When Eryck stepped forward for a closer look, the owl shifted on the branch, cuing its displeasure as its focus remained on Eryck. The bird's eyes did not appear normal as they smoldered a faint red—much like the eyes of the white rats he would see at a tiny traveling carnival. In the hope of seeing the bird's extended wing markings, the young man tossed the remaining carrot stalk up at the bird, but the bird stoically remained on its perch, simply hooting its displeasure. Seconds later—as if on its own terms, the owl hooted once more and took flight, its wings as white as snow.

"Huh," said Eryck in wonder.

With the sun still visible above the horizon, Eryck entered the bookbinding shoppe.

Inside, Master Bookbinder Ayrn Foryst gave his young friend a warm welcome. "Eryck, how are you?"

"Good. You're looking better."

"Aye, my joints have loosened up. I think it's the weather."

Gazing at the various unfinished books scattered about Ayrn's workshop, Eryck set down his bundle of goatskins as the binder retrieved the coinage for the new leather. "I delivered two books to the castle this morning."

Ayrn handed Eryck the coins. "Tell your master thank you for me."

"I will." Eryck tucked the money into a small pocket in his empty satchel. "I still have the other three books from last week. I'm enjoying the book about various birds."

Inspecting his new goatskins, the binder gave an approving nod for the leather, smiling as he recalled the book. "That was a very good book. It's refreshing when I get to bind something other than religious text."

Eryck took a seat on a stool. "Did the priest who wrote the bird journal live around here?"

"No. He's a priest of the north."

"Do you know who did the drawings," asked Eryck.

"If I remember correctly, the priest's sister was the artist."

"Don't they have bookbinders in the north?"

Ayrn smiled with pride. "They do, but they use inferior leather. Because of this, the Lannisters often have me rebind their new books whenever the binding doesn't meet their standards. The castle steward once told me that the late Lord Tywin would sometimes pull a book off the shelf for rebinding just by the look of the spine. He didn't like it when a worn leather binding stuck out like a sore thumb." The bookbinder pointed to a stack of old books on far counter. "The Lannisters want all those rebounded."

"Anything good in there?"

"Not sure. I haven't had time to look." The old man moved to a cluttered table, gathering two newly finished bound books. "Here, you can deliver these two books to the castle in a couple weeks. One is a mason's book about architecture. I enjoyed it immensely. Took me three extra days just to bind it." With a wink and a nod, he passed the books to the young man.

Eryck's eyes widened as he received the texts. Opening the mason's book, he smiled as soon as his eyes beheld the words. Skimming the pages, the lad's smile faded before he turned to his old friend. "Doesn't the steward ever ask you why it takes so long to bind a book? You've told me it only takes a few days."

The old man reached for two mugs as he began the preparation for tea. "I just tell them that I'm thorough with my work. They need not know that my thoroughness includes their reading."

Eryck carefully inserted the two books into his satchel. "Shame that these books will never be read again. Do you think anyone in the castle ever reads them?"

"Hard to say. I believe that Cerenna Lannister is an avid reader. Her handmaiden brings me her books for rebinding quite often."

"Poetry and love stories?"

Ayrn paused in reflective thought. "Uh, no. She likes books about medicine and those from foreign lands, sometimes alchemy."

"Really?" Eryck stood to retrieve the steaming pot of water from the small hearth.

After adding tea to each mug, the old man returned to his stool. "Yes. I believe she has quite a library of her own."

Eryck carefully began pouring water into the two mugs. "What about her sister, Myrielle? Has she sent you any books?"

"Not that I can recall, but they share the same handmaiden, so perhaps some of those books were hers."

Hopping onto his stool, Eryck began adding honey to his tea. "I hope to someday visit the Lannister library. If I was the lord of Casterly Rock, I'd open the library to the entire village. Books should be read, not rotting on shelves."

Amused by the lad's comment, the old man nearly chuckled. "Would you now. The books would still go unread. Very few can read. Most knights don't even know how to read."

Stirring his tea, Eryck frowned, recalling his past encounters with knights. "That doesn't surprise me. Thugs most of them."

"Most people would use the books to level their tables," said the old man raising his tea for a sip.

"I bet many would learn to read. I did."

"Perhaps," commented the cheery old man, appeasing his young friend.

Eryck began glancing about the workshop. "What are you binding next?"

With a crooked finger, Ayrn pointed to a pile of yellowing scrolls. "Our late lordship's brother, Kevan, has sent those scrolls for binding."

"How do you bind scrolls?"

"You don't." Ayrn gestured to the stacks of folded parchment stacked next to the scrolls. "I have a copyist transcribe them to new paper. He requested that three copies of each book to be made. The copyist should be bringing me the next set in a day or two."

"Anything good?" Eryck sipped his tea.

"Actually, yes." The binder wrapped his sore fingers tightly around his hot mug. "They are filled with tales about the last murderous winter of many years ago. They tell of many forgotten myths and legends."

Eryck starred with excitement at the stack. "Really? Can I look?"

The old man nodded.

Opening the top bundle of folded paper to a random page, Eryck began reading about a red priestess. When his eyes drifted over a paragraph proclaiming the significance of trees whose sap resembled blood, the lad's face lit up. He turned to his old friend. "I love fantasies like this. I hope this is next to be bound."

"It is," said the binder. "You should be able to pick it up for delivery next week."

"Do these scrolls tell of the great war that occurred during the long winter?"

"I believe so. The section I'm reading now tells of the various animals from the north and their meaning."

Eryck returned to his stool, reaching for his mug of tea. "Do they mention white owls?"

"It does." Ayrn sipped his tea.

"I saw one on the way here today."

"The spotted snow owls occasionally make their way south. I used to see them often when I was a lad."

"Ya, but this one had no spots."

Setting down his tea, the binder's eyes narrowed. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." Sensing his friend's concern, Eryck straightened on his stool. "I looked for spots, but saw none. The bird's eyes looked different too."

"Blue, like glowing ice?" asked Ayrn.

"No. Kind of red. Like those white rats we'd occasionally see at the traveling carnival.

Falling silent, Aryan's gaze drifted down to the table as he tried to recall his readings.

Clearing his throat, Eryck then asked, "Doesn't folklore say that if you are visited by an owl that someone close to you will soon perish?"

"Yes," replied the bookbinder with a worried tone, "but that legend is tied to the great horned owl."

"Is it different for snow owls?"

"Yes." The old man looked gravely at his friend. "The scrolls say that those spotless white owls foretell the death of many."

Eryck smiled. "It's just folklore, like the tales of the dead rising. What do they call them…_the others_? You don't believe the legends, do ya?"

Hemming, the old man scratched his stubble face. "Beasts of burden taken by _the others_ usually have blue or blacken eyes. Animals whose eyes have turned red might be under the influence of the Red God."

Eryck had fallen mute, enjoying what he thought to be new folktales of a grand nature.

Looking to the door—as if fearful that someone should enter, Ayrn whispered, "Ser Daven's hunting party killed an albino deer last week. What if it wasn't an albino?"

Eryck gave a light chuckle. "Next you're going to tell me that you believe in magic."

The binder eyed his friend. "You don't?"

"Of course not, the closest thing to magic is the con men and their shell games at the market."

Sipping his tea, the old man continued to eye his friend. "What about a newborn baby? Or a sunrise? Are they not magic?"

Frowning, Eryck peered into his mug of tea. "Those things are life, not magic. I'm sure science will someday have an explanation for everything."

"That would be a sad day if science ever explained away magic."

Unable to hide his frustration, Eryck took a large gulp of tea, ignoring the burning sensation in his throat. "Besides, babies are more of a burden than anything."

"If it was your baby, you'd think its existence was magic."

Eryck finished the last of his tea without a word.

Sensing his friend's frustration, Ayrn smiled reassuringly. "Perhaps you need a girl to help you discover magic. You'll be surprised at how much magic is out there once you know how to look for it."

"There are no available girls, or at least ones who could put up with my tannery smell. I'll probably smell better dead."

"You're no worse than other tradesmen," said the binder. "Find yourself a farmer's daughter. They have strong noses, not to mention firm backsides."

"There are no viable girls, farmer's daughters or otherwise."

"Your standards are unreasonable."

Rising from his stool, Eryck shouldered his satchel. "Is it too much to ask for a girl that can read?"

"You could find someone and teach her to read," retorted the binder. "Remember, you only learned to read a few years ago."

Eryck hemmed, his eyes flitting away. "I better go. I want to get some reading done before nightfall. If I go now, I won't have to use my last remaining candle."

"Alright." The binder rose from his stool. "Enjoy the books."

"Thank you as always for the tea."

"You're welcome." With a concerned, nurturing look, the old man straighten as he turned to the young man. "Eryck, can you do something for me?"

"Sure."

"Open your eyes. You've learned to read books, but now, you need to start reading the world around you. Like books, if you open your mind to what you cannot explain, the simplest things that had previously gone unnoticed may surprise you: wondrous things that were right under your nose. You might even find a girl." The old man smiled as he touched his own prominent proboscis.

Eryck returned his smile. "My father used to say that we do not know what we don't know, and not knowing is for the best, for it's hard to forget bad things."

Ayrn nodded. "That's true too. Ignorance is the chosen path of many, but that is for you to decide."

Eryck's brow knitted with confusion. "I read as much as I can."

"Ah," said the man, clasping his hands together, "But that isn't knowledge. It is how you interpret your readings. There is much propaganda in the written word, even in texts that claim to be factual, and you must be able to separate the wheat from the chaff to free yourself truly from ignorance. The same can be said for the world around you."

Pausing briefly, Eryck gave a parting nod and exited the shoppe. During his journey home, he wondered what, if anything, he was not seeing.


	2. The Princess

**02 The Princess**

Eryck awoke in the darkness to a painful tap to his forehead. Feeling blood running down the side of his face, he reached for the wound to discover his hands restrained at his sides. As a cool forest breeze blew across his face, he realized that he was tied to the bare ground away from his shelter. His vision coming into focus, he found the white owl standing above his head with feathers that glowed in the full moonlight.

When the large bird pecked again at his head, releasing a larger stream of blood, Eryck began to pull frantically against his restraints. Glancing at his wrist, he could see that his restraints were not made of rope, but tree root. As he tried to twist his wrists free, he began to feel a new set of roots slither over his ankles and tighten, binding his legs to the forest floor.

The owl then pecked again at his head, causing the young man to cry for help as he desperately turned his head from side to side. The bird pecked rapidly, striking the young man over various parts of his head until its beak struck an eye.

Eryck immediately sensed the loss of vision in his damaged eye. Quickly exhausting from the struggle, Eryck paused for one moment to look at the predatory bird, hopelessly begging aloud for the creature to stop when the bird struck for the remaining eye, dooming Eryck to eternal darkness.

Bolting upright on his straw bedding, Eryck cursed loudly as he touched his face. Gasping for air, he soon realized that he had wakened from an unusually vivid nightmare. Worse yet, the mid morning sun told him that he was late for work. He quickly began dressing, angry with himself for staying up late to read the new books. He glanced at the melted wax of his finished candle—his last—and cursed again as he slipped on his boots.

Pocketing the bookbinder's money owed to his boss, Eryck took off running through the forest for work. Since he was late, he took a shortcut that led to the back of the tannery, but when he burst from the forest, he received his third shock of the morning: an armed knight sentry standing near the building.

The knight swiftly drew his sword and pointed the tip of the blade at the young man's throat. "Halt where you stand! Move and I shall run you through"

"Sorry," exclaimed Eryck, lifting his hands just above his shoulders to show that he was weaponless. "Sorry. I won't move. Not moving."

"What is your business here?" barked the knight.

"I w-w-work here," replied Eryck, catching his breath. "I'm late for work and took a shortcut through the forest."

The captain of the castle guards, Ser Lavin Steador, appeared from around the tannery building. "What's going on here?"

Keeping his eyes trained on Eryck, the junior knight replied, "Caught this one trying to sneak in through the back from the forest. Claims he works here."

Next from the front of the tannery appeared Eryck's employer, Master Behn Sallis. Perplexed by the scene, the master tanner gave his apprentice a stern look. "What are you doing, Eryck?"

"Sorry. I took the forest shortcut."

"Do you know this young man?" asked Ser Lavin.

"Yes. He belongs to me. He's harmless."

The captain nodded to his junior to lower his sword.

Master Behn shook his head disappointedly. "Come on, line up with the others."

Moving past the two knights, Eryck began to ask, "Why is the tannery being surrounded by kni—" Seeing the answer for himself, the young tanner skidded to a stop when he spotted Ser Daven Lannister standing before the main building of the tannery. Spread out on the grass before Ser Daven, lay various types of finished leather on display.

Noticing first the dozen garrison knights spread out in sentry positions—their horses tied to various trees, Eryck eventually gazed upon a simple two-horse open carriage where Cerenna and Myrielle Lannister sat with silken handkerchiefs pressed to their noses. Feeling all eyes trained on him, Eryck snapped out of his leering and promptly scooted next to his two fellow apprentices, Tobin and Ryver.

Master Behn turned to Ser Daven, gesturing his large red stained hand towards Eryck. "My apologies, m'lord. This one doesn't like sharing the apprentice hut with the others. He likes to sleep in the woods in a small shelter."

Ser Daven eyed the nervous young man. "You're not poaching my animals; are you?"

"No, my lord," replied Eryck. "I would never poach Lannister wildlife. I simply prefer solitude at the end of the day. I will leave the forest if you require it."

With a faint smile, Ser Daven gave a brief glance to Master Behn before saying, "That won't be necessary, but are you not afraid of the bandits that lurk along the roads?"

"No, my lord," replied Eryck. "My shelter is very difficult to see if one isn't looking for it. I have seen various bandits passing through in the past, but they usually don't stray this close to the Lannisport."

Myrielle sneezed into her handkerchief, her long natural curly red hair bunching upon her shoulders. "The awful smell probably chases them away. Is it always this bad?"

"Yes, m'lady," replied Master Behn, unaffected by the common complaint. "This is why my tannery is located downwind on the outskirts of the town."

Myrielle pressed her handkerchief tighter against her nose. "Perhaps you should move it farther away."

"Myrielle, behave," said Cerenna. "The tannery offends no one where it stands."

"Quite right," added Ser Daven before facing the master tanner. "Apologies, my old friend. My sister Myrielle has forgotten her manners this morning."

"No offense taken, m'lord. The tannery can be quite overwhelming to those not used to it."

"That is why we are here. My sisters have always wanted more responsibility, so I'm obliging, somewhat. I've brought them along for my monthly inspection of Lannisport. Should they ever have to rule in our stead—God forbid, they need a full understanding of Lannisport's tradesmen and resources. And with all the looming threats, we could very well run of Lannister men should we be called off again to war."

Recalling recent news, Master Behn smiled as he clasped his hands behind his back. "M'lord, were you not just made the Warden of the West by the Queen?"

Ser Daven nodded solemnly. "I'm afraid my cousin has given me that responsibility, hence my pressing business."

"You're..." Eryck paused, realizing that he had spoken out of turn. "Sorry, my lord."

"Go on," said the amiable Ser Daven. "You have a question?"

Eryck glanced nervously at his two fellow apprentices. "You're not here to collect us?"

"Why would you think that?"

"We heard you were building an army and needed more soldiers."

Ser Daven smiled. "No lad. We already have our army. I'm simply escorting my sisters around Lannisport. With my uncle, Ser Damion, left behind as castellan, he may need my sister's assistance."

Lowering her handkerchief, Cerenna brushed her flowing blonde hair over her should, allowing her face to be more easily seen. "I'd like to thank you, Master Behn, for showing us the various leathers. I can see why my brother has always admired your work."

"Thank you, m'lady." Master Behn gave a faint bow. "If you would like to see more, I could show you the inside of the tannery. We could show you the various steps it takes to turn an animal hide into leather."

"That won't be necessary." Cerenna continued to smile, her cheerful expression appearing natural as her hand kept her handkerchief just below her chin. "We can see much of your workshop through the open carriage doors."

"Very good, m'lady."

Ser Daven began donning his leather gloves for departure when he unexpectedly turned back to address Eryck. "What is your name, young man?"

"Eryck Leder, my lord."

"Are you still an apprentice?"

"Yes, my lord. My apprenticeship ends next summer."

"Why did you choose this trade?"

Eryck felt his body temperature rise from the added attention. "Before my father died, my lord, he arranged for me to learn the craft of tanning from Master Behn. "

Pulling on his second glove, Ser Daven glanced at Eryck's two friends. "Are you two still apprentices?"

"Yes, m'lord," replied both young men in turn.

Ser Daven returned to Eryck. "Are you going to remain under Master Behn after you complete your apprenticeship?"

"Yes, my lord. If he decides to make me a junior." Eryck gripped his nervous hands tightly behind his back. "Master Behn pays us generously."

"Does he pay you?" Ser Daven turned to Master Behn for the answer.

"I pay my apprentices a small stipend. Lads need to go to town for ale and to blow off some steam from time to time."

"We sure do," injected Tobin, "but Eryck prefers to buy candles over ale."

Ryver elbowed Tobin hard in the side, wiping the smile off his large friend's face.

"Sorry, m'lord." said Tobin.

Ser Daven's brow narrowed as he stepped closer to Eryck. "Candles?"

"It's dark in the forest, my lord." Eryck felt beads of sweat begin to run down the small of his back.

"I hope you will not accidently burn down my forest."

"No, my lord. I only use the candles when absolutely necessary, and I'm quite careful when I do."

With an inquisitive smile, Ser Daven turned and approached his sisters' carriage where he quietly asked for something from Cerenna, who looked confused when she passed her brother the requested object. Returning to Eryck, Ser Daven presented a book and proceeded to open the volume so the young man could see the first page. "Read this aloud," he calmly ordered.

Looking up at Ser Daven, Eryck hesitated. "I don't understand?"

"Read."

"I cannot read, my lord."

Ser Daven gnawed his lip before quoting the young man's words, "'I _cannot_ read, _my lord_.' Should you not say, 'I _can't _read, _m'lord_.' It is odd that you do not speak like your cohorts." Ser Daven glanced at the other two, knowing that he need not present them the book.

Tobin's innocent smile returned. "Eryck, always talks funny, m'lord. He once said that your sister Myrielle was the most calpi...cal...callipygous woman of all the kingdom. I think callipygous was the word."

Seeing the displeasure on Myrielle's face caused Ser Daven to chuckle. He turned to Tobin and asked, "Do you know the definition of callipygous?"

"Not sure, m'lord. I assumed it meant pretty."

Sir Daven's eyes shifted to Eryck. "It means shapely buttocks, or _nice ass_ in common speak."

Several of the knights within earshot chuckled as eyes flitted towards Myrielle Lannister. Even her sister, Cerenna, bit her lip in an attempt to hide her amusement.

Eryck bowed his head as his face flushed red with embarrassment.

Unable to take the snickering, Myrielle's face burned red with anger as she quickly stood inside the open carriage. "Arrest him, brother!"

"For what?" inquired Ser Daven.

"For insulting a princess," said Myrielle.

"You're not a princess."

"I...we should..." Frustrated, Myrielle looked to her sister, who choose to not get involved. Bunching her hands into fists, Myrielle said with much venom, "For insulting a woman of house Lannister."

"The young man paid you a compliment. Please accept it as that and sit down."

"I want justice."

"Sit down!" barked Ser Daven.

In the growing tension, Eryck's body broke out in a cold sweat as everyone watched Myrielle cover her nose with her fisted handkerchief and slowly return to her seat.

When Ser Daven returned to Eryck, the young man glanced with dread at the familiar book clutched in the large knight's hand. He remembered transporting that particular book from the binder shoppe to his forest shelter, and eventually to the castle, a book he gleefully read during its delayed delivery.

Ser Daven presented the open book once more. "I will not be angry if you feel it important enough to lie to me, to feign ignorance. Do so if you must, but I need to ask you one more time to read this page aloud."

Eryck considered Ser Daven to be the fairest and most just knight of the Lannisters. He also had no doubt that he could keep his secret without fear of interrogation or punishment. But he did not want to be forced to lie; he wanted to be honorable and true—like a knight. Taking a deep staggered breath, Eryck began reading aloud, "Sonnets and Musing of the Red Queen. Chapter one: Off with their heads!"

As those present mumbled in amazement, Ser Daven nodded favorably as he closed the book. "Who taught you to read?"

"My late mother, my lord," lied Eryck, immediately wishing he had better obfuscated the truth. However, the lie kept his friend, the bookbinder, safe. "My mother hoped that I would find service work in your lordship's castle. She had hoped that bestowing literacy to me would give me more opportunity. My late father thought otherwise, so he arranged for me to become a tanner before his death."

"Interesting." Ser Daven paged slowly through the book, his eyes drifting between the pages and tanner apprentice. "Who taught your mother to read?"

Feeling himself slipping down an unwieldy rabbit hole, Eryck frantically searched for a second lie. "Her mother. I was told that the women in my family had secretly passed on the skill through generations."

With a growing smile, Ser Daven glanced at his sisters. "Women do have their secrets. That's what makes them so dangerous."

In response to their brother's quip, the sisters raised their chins in protest, unable to hide their subtle smirks.

"Tell me, Mr. Leder; what job would you have taken in Casterly Rock had the opportunity presented itself?"

"Carpenter, my lord. I'm in awe of the castle and would have been honored to be one of the many carpenters that maintain it."

"Not a knight?"

Eryck glanced briefly at the garrison captain. "No, sir. Mother told me that I'm too pretty to be a knight."

Though his answer made Ser Daven laugh, Eryck noticed how Ser Steador took the comment with much less levity. Seeing the bewildered look on his master's face, Eryck quickly continued, "I still feel very fortunate to find myself under Master Behn's instruction. It's nice to be part of such a notable tannery."

"This is the finest tannery of all the Westeros." Ser Daven gave a respectful nod to Master Behn. "And had you, Mr. Leder, become one of my carpenters, I'm sure your work would have been of the highest standard."

Myrielle huffed loudly. "It would make more sense to make him a gong farmer, let him clear the latrines. It may even lessen his stench."

As the sisters snickered, Sir Daven stared fiercely at them until their giggling promptly dissipated into sullen looks. He glared at Myrielle until she looked down and feignedly began straightening her dress. Then unexpectedly, Ser Daven began to smile mischievously as he turned to the senior tanner. "Master Behn, may I borrow your young apprentice for one week? I will, of course, compensate you for your lost labor."

"Ah, um yes, m'lord," replied Master Behn. "Do with him what you please."

Ser Daven turned to Eryck. "I want to honor your mother's gift of literacy. Would you like to serve the Lannisters for one week?"

"Um..." Eryck looked about to see the same bewilderment displayed by all those present. "I'm only skilled in tannery, my lord. What will you have me do?"

Ser Daven's eyes shifted between his sisters and Eryck until he said, "You will be my court jester for one week. You will entertain me with your wit."

"My lord, I possess no wit," said Eryck. "At most, I can be sarcastic, if it doesn't get my nose broken."

Stroking his beard, Ser Daven lightly chuckled. "See. You have already done your duty for the day. And when I'm occupied, you will accompany my two sisters wherever they may go."

"What?" exclaimed Myrielle, her mouth agape. "I will not have this fool accompany me wherever I may go."

"You will," commanded Ser Daven. "As this young man learned to read, you will learn manners and respect for those under House Lannister."

"I will not." With a flushed face, she set her hands on her hips in defiance.

Ser Daven stormed to his sisters' carriage, and though he spoke in a low tone, the anger in his booming voice carried to everyone present. "Do not disobey me ever again in front of others. I will not have it. You will be hospitable to this young man, for one week. Do you understand?"

With a clenched jaw, Myrielle bowed her head. "Yes, brother." When she received no response, she lifted her gaze to see her brother's expression which caused her to changed her response to, "Yes, my lord."

"Good." Ser Daven turned to Eryck. "Come, Mr. Leder. You will sit between my sisters."

In shock, Eryck hesitated but soon sprung forward to the carriage, and with the aid of the coachman, climbed up onto the carriage. Smiling courteously, he sat between the sisters, making sure not to sit on their exquisitely stitched dresses as they weakly attempted to hide their displeasure.

Mounting his horse, Ser Daven appeared amused by his sister's discomfort. "I'm going to ride out to inspect the farms. Cerenna and Myrielle, you will proceed to the mill where we will meet up once more."

The sisters nodded their acknowledgement.

"And Eryck," said Ser Daven.

"Yes, my lord?"

"Your first task of the day will be to make my sisters smile."

Eryck could see Lady Myrielle's sneer from the corner of his eye. "I think it would be easier to wrestle a bear, my lord."

Ser Daven guffawed as he steered his horse away. "You may be right, but try not to get mauled by them. I want to return you to your master in one piece"

Looking to his perplexed friends who stood beside an even more perplexed Master Behn, Eryck shrugged his dismay when he happily realized that he would finally be seeing the inside of Casterly Rock. With this thought, Eryck's face lit up as the carriage lurched forward.

Ser Daven took to a gallop and disappeared promptly around a bend in the road, followed by most of the castle guard. At a walking pace, the sisters' carriage continued forward as four mounted knights took their guarded positions fore and aft.

But once the carriage passed around the same bend—well out of sight of the tannery, Myrielle Lannister called out to the coachman, "Stop. Stop the carriage."

"Yes, my lady," replied the knight.

Before the carriage came to a complete stop, Lady Myrielle gestured to the small side door. "Get out, you. Curse everything dead and rotting in this world; you smell." She pressed her handkerchief to her face. "You will have to walk alongside the carriage."

Eryck promptly slipped out of the carriage and closed the small door. "I apologize to you both. Tanning skins is…unpleasant to the senses."

Cerenna smiled. "That's quite alright. We understand. Once we return to the castle, we will find someone to help you bathe. Perhaps they can apply some scented oils."

"Thank you, my lady."

With her handkerchief pressed over her face, Lady Myrielle commanded the coachman to proceed, and procession moved forward with Eryck sliding behind the carriage due to the narrow road.

The young man thought it odd how the procession moved along in complete silence, for the sisters did not converse with one another. From behind the carriage, he occasionally saw the perturbed look on Myrielle's face when she would turn her head to gaze at the landscape.

Eryck wondered if he could actually make her smile: _Am I truly expected to entertain her as her brother had ordered? Would there be repercussions if I fail?_ Eryck cleared his throat and said, "My lady, for what it's worth, I think of you as being a princess, if not in title, you are one in stature."

"I'm not a princess," retorted the hotly redheaded sister. She turned in her seat. "Do you know why?"

"Because your mother is not queen," replied Eryck. "The daughter of Queen Cersei is technically the only princess in the land. But, Princess Myrcella will lose her title when King Tommen comes of age."

Myrielle's eyes narrowed as she continued to stare at young tanner. Whether it was talking to a commoner—or the embarrassment from early, the young woman could no longer hide her growing displeasure as her anger boiled over. "Shut up, shut up, shut up! I will not have this discussion with you. You will only speak to me when spoken to."

"Yes, my lady. My apologies, my lady." Resolved to hold his tongue, Eryck observed how the knights failed to hide their amusement. _At least I made someone smile, _he thought.

"Can you do us a favor," continued Lady Myrielle. "Could you fall back a little further? I can still smell you from here."

"Yes, my lady."

Not soon after, Lady Myrielle glanced over her shoulder. "Put more distance between you and the carriage. I can still smell you."

"Yes, my lady," replied Eryck. Falling behind the two trailing knights on horseback, he sniffed his shoulder, wondering if he actually smelled that bad, and thought, _No, you are not a princess._

It was then, as Myrielle continued to wave over a shoulder for Eryck to fall further back that a smiling Cerenna glanced at him and shared a sympathetic shrug, something he thought a true princess would do.


	3. The Fool

**03 The Fool**

Partially carved out of a great stone hill, Casterly Rock towered over the neighboring seaport of Lannisport. With manmade ramparts that appeared to grow out of the rock, the gray castle looked older than its true age. The capital of the Westerlands, this formidable fortress, projected a shadow much larger than the actual one that extended over the seaport each morning, the town that bore in part, the Lannister name.

Intimately familiar with the outside of the castle, Eryck's heart raced as he passed through the front double doors. With a smile stretching from ear to ear, Eryck followed the sisters into the great hall of Casterly Rock. His eyes darted about the room, intoxicated by all the fine art and crimson tapestries. The lion references seen in the art shouted the Lannister motto: _Hear Me Roar_. Eryck's gaze drifted up to the stone buttresses that held up the intricate ceiling decorated with carved designs that were vague due to the height.

"Eryck? Eryck?" Cerenna Lannister touched his arm.

The startled young man turned to her, unable to hide his excitement. "Yes, my lady?"

"We're going upstairs to wash off the day's travels. When the steward, Mr. Spyre, arrives, he will show you to the servant's facilities where you can wash up. He will assign you a room and a pair of clothes for the week."

"Thank you, my lady." Eryck's gaze drifted over her shoulder to a painting larger than his shelter in the woods. "How long did it take the artist to paint that?

Myrielle Lannister sighed. "Maybe we can leave the fool here, and our guests can drape their cloaks over him."

"Be nice, Myrielle," chided Cerenna. "Perhaps something good will come from our brother's _lesson_."

The red headed sister hemmed her doubts as she turned for the grand staircase. With a parting smile, Cerenna left Eryck to his gazing, following her sister on the stairs.

The steward of the castle entered the great hall from a service door and called out to the sisters ascending the grand staircase. "My ladyships, how was today's tour of..." The elderly man turned to Eryck. "You? How? You are not allowed in here."

"The fool is with us," said Myrielle.

At a loss for words, the steward gazed up at the sisters with a confused look.

"It's true," said Cerenna. "Our brother has appointed this young man to the role of court jester for—"

"_Fool_," interrupted Myrielle in a mocking tone.

Cerenna pressed her lips together as she glared at her sister. "He is our jester, _and guest, _for one week."

The steward cautiously licked his lips. "Um, I thought the late Lord Tywin commanded that there never again be a court jester, after that last incident?"

"Lord Tywin is dead," replied Cerenna. "Besides, it's just for a week. Our brother believes that we could learn something from this gentleman."

Myrielle began ascending the stairs. "Our brother is punishing us. If you can, do something about his smell."

Cerenna forced a smile, conferring delicately that she too thought the smell was an issue. "Mr. Spyre, please help our friend to the baths and provide him soap and scented oil. Also, find him some simple attire for the week."

"We no longer have jester attire, my lady."

"Good," replied Cerenna. "It's best to have him in simple servant clothing. You can assign him a vacant servant's room on our floor. Oh, and his name is Eryck Leder."

"I know who he is, my lady. He delivers books regularly from the binder's shoppe."

"He works at the tannery," commented Cerenna with a hint of puzzlement.

Feeling all eyes upon him, Eryck answered quickly. "I do both, my lady. I deliver goatskins to the binder, and then, I deliver his finished books to the castle. He's old and doesn't like the journey." The young man clasped his hands together to stop fidgeting. "It's not out of my way, and he pays me with tea and stories."

"I see," said Cerenna with a faint smile, which revealed some suspicion. "Mr. Spyre, can you see to our friend? Feed him before he joins us at dinner."

"I'm to eat two dinners?" asked Eryck

The steward rolled his eyes. "Of course not, you eat with the servants and then stand at the ready when our lordships eat."

"Ready for what?"

"Whatever they ask of you," replied the steward. "If they tell you to cluck like a chicken, you cluck."

Cerenna began ascending the staircase. "Thank you, Mr. Spyre."

"My lady," replied the steward with a slight bow. Once the young woman had passed from view, the steward gestured for Eryck to follow him through the servant's door where they traveled through narrow, dimly lit passages until they reached the servant washroom.

Mr. Spyre presented Eryck soap, scented oil, and simple clothing. "Don't overdo it with the oil. Just apply a little to the parts mostly affected by the...um. What exactly makes you smell the way you do?"

"I'm a tanner. I work with limewater, heated manure, and rotting animal skins. Oh, there are also the animal brains and other tannins that we use to tan the skins at the end of the process. My hands and forearms probably smell the worst."

The elderly man studied Eryck's reddish stained hands but said nothing. He need not speak since his distrustful look—the stare that the young man had become accustomed—said everything.

Eryck sniffed the lye soap. "I'm not a trickster if that is what you are wondering."

The steward's cautious stare remained unchanged.

"It's true," continued Eryck, "that I've always wanted to see the art and architecture of this grand castle, but I would not try to con my way inside. Ser Daven thought me as a curiosity and decided to use me to torment his sisters. That is all."

"I see." The steward moved under the doorway. "When you are done washing up, you will find the kitchen at the end of the corridor where you will be fed. I'll come find you when dinner is to be presented to our lordships."

"Am I to serve or pour anything?"

"Pray god no," commented the old man, his eyes wide from the worrying thought. "Just stand there and hope no one notices you." With a heavy sigh, the fretting old man turned and departed.

_The story of my life, _thought Eryck as he began washing. After a thorough scrubbing, he donned the simple servant attire, finding the clothing loose and comfortable. He next sought out the kitchen by simply following the wondrous smell of food that permeated the corridors. When he entered the busy kitchen, he received a surprised look from the head cook, Bessie.

"Look at what the cat dragged in," hooted the cook. "So, you are the one who has Mr. Spyre all riled up."

Eryck shrugged. "Yes, ma'am."

"Ma'am? You better call me Bessie if you don't want a soup ladle cracked upside your head. Come sit down over here."

"Thank you, Bessie." Eryck licked his lips when he spotted the fresh loaves of bread on the small servant's table.

Bessie tore off a large chunk of bread and set it on his plate. "This is your share of the bread. You can start on this as I get you some ham and soup."

"This is heavenly," mumbled Eryck as he hurriedly chewed on his first bite.

"Thank you," replied Bessie. "Slow down, laddie, there is no need to rush. The Lannisters don't eat for a couple hours."

Eryck nodded as he tried to slow his chewing. When Bessie set a plate of ham before him, he lunged for his fork. The juicy pork almost brought tears to his eyes. "How did you learn to cook?"

Wiping her hands onto her apron, Bessie sat on a nearby stool. "I started in the kitchen as a little girl. I learned from my predecessor and then later, learned from my own mistakes."

"I hope you are teaching your apprentices."

"I am," said Bessie with a tired sigh. "At least, I try to when they decide to listen." After watching the young man sample the soup, she discreetly leaned forward. "Court jester?"

Eryck smiled at the cook's concerned look. "I don't think Ser Daven is expecting me to be an actual jester. He's using me to torture his sisters."

"Ser Daven does like to tease them, but he should be careful. Those two young ladies are likely to poison his wine if he isn't careful."

"I've already learned the hard way that Myrielle has a temper."

"That she does." Bessie briefly touched Eryck's arm. "You be careful too."

"I will." Eryck took another bite of the succulent ham and moaned. "I'll stand as still as a tree if it means I get to eat your cooking."

"Just be careful is all I'm saying."

Remembering the conversation in the great hall, Eryck asked, "What happened to the last court jester?"

"He tried to be funny."

Eryck stopped chewing and swallowed. "Was he like me or a real jester?"

"He was a real jester. He insulted the captain of the castle garrison. The knight threw him against the wall so hard that the fool lost consciousness. The poor boy never woke up and died a couple days later."

"Did they punish the knight?"

Frowning, Bessie shook her head. "Lord Tywin called it an unfortunate accident. He ruled that the jester had crossed a line."

Eryck picked at the ham on his plate. "What did the fool say?"

"Don't know, but that's why I say be careful."

"I most definitely will." Eryck stabbed his next bite with his fork. "Besides, I don't know any jokes."

"Good."

"Was the knight the current captain of the garrison?"

"Um...no." Bessie's brow knitted in thought. "I can't remember his name. Knights come and go so frequently in this castle that it's hard to keep track of them."

"Where is the knight now?"

"No one knows." Bessie rose from her stool. "He disappeared a couple weeks after the incident. Some think he traveled north."

"That's a relief." Eryck eagerly bit off another bite of bread as Bessie began pouring him a glass of wine. He held up his hand to stop her. "Can I have some water instead?"

"Our water isn't all that pleasing. It's actually safer to drink wine. Would you prefer ale?"

"No the wine will do."

Resting a hand on Eryck's shoulder, Bessie poured the wine into a simple mug. "The wine isn't strong, so don't fret about becoming drunk. I'm sure you'll do fine tonight."

**...**

As Ser Daven and his sister's ate, Eryck stood motionless at the side of the dining hall. Again, to his surprise, no conversation occurred between the siblings as they slowly enjoyed their dinner with the handful of servants delivering and removing plates over the course of the two-hour meal.

Only once, did Eryck make the mistake of glancing too long at Myrielle, admiring how her red hair gleamed in the abundant candle light. When she caught him staring, his eyes flitted away as he bowed his head in anticipation of the verbal lashing, which mercifully did not come.

Ser Daven finished his wine in gulps, the wine leaking into his long, scruffy beard. Setting the empty cup down, he waved for the cupbearer for a refill. The brother took another large satisfying gulp of wine before asking, "So, my sisters, how was your first day with the new court jester?"

Cerenna smiled. "If you thought that he would frazzle our nerves, you were wrong, brother. Mr. Leder has been a complete gentleman."

"Speak for yourself," countered Myrielle, the wine beginning to slur her speech.

Ser Daven chuckled as he leaned back into his chair. "I knew the man would behave himself. Buffoons do not become literate. Has Mr. Leder taught either of you anything?"

Myrielle waved for the cupbearer to top off her glass. "He taught me that cleanliness is next to godliness."

Turning to the nervous young man, Ser Daven asked, "Eryck, how was your first day as court jester?"

"I had an unbelievable day, my lord." Eryck felt his face flush from the attention. "I will forever be in you debt for the kindness you and your family have shown me."

Rolling her eyes, Myrielle subtly shook her head as she raised her cup to her wine stained lips.

Ser Daven began swirling the wine in his cup. "Eryck, would you happen to know any jokes that may lighten my sister's mood?"

Eryck had feared this question from the beginning. As sweat beaded down his lower back, he recalled the few dirty jokes that his friends had shared in the taverns and wondered if he could change them into something more appropriate. Realizing that he could not transform the vile limericks into something less offensive, he said in desperation, "I don't believe such a joke exists that she would find funny, my lord." Eryck immediately regretted his comment as Myrielle's eyes narrowed on him.

Ser Daven and Cerenna laughed light heartedly as their sister gave everyone at the table a disparaging look. Biting her lip, Myrielle remained silent, for she knew that any protest would be ignored.

"Well then," continued the brother, "tell me a story."

Eryck felt his insides tighten further, for he never imagine this question to be asked of him. "My lord?"

"I haven't heard a good story in a long time." With heavy eyelids, Ser Daven sipped his wine. "I'm sure you must have some story unfamiliar to all that you could share."

"A story of folklore or truth, my lord?"

"You decided," said Lord Daven with a shrug. "Tell me anything. There is no failure in trying."

"Um, okay." Eryck glanced about the room in search of inspiration, only to find the worried look of the steward staring back at him. Ignoring Myrielle's contemptuous look—she clearly wishing for disaster, he looked to Cerenna and felt oddly comforted, for her expression appeared to be one of simple curiosity.

Myrielle snapped, "Get on with it, fool." She set down her empty wine cup with a thump before waving to the cupbearer for a refill. "Preferably before I finish my next serving."

"Yes, my lady." Eryck cleared his throat and began to share the first story that came to mind: "A long long time ago, a just and fair king wandered his lands in search of a queen. The king, a very kind man, had become distant since his search for a queen proved most difficult. And despite the man's desire being known by all, he still could not find a woman who had similar interests and aspirations, a woman with whom he could be himself.

"Out of desperation, the king decided to search for his queen in the more distant parts of his kingdom and set out on horseback with his guards in tow, traveling long and far to the northern lands. After several exhausting days, he paused under the full moon and ventured alone to a lake to freshen up. As he splashed water upon his face, a female voice called out, 'Dear me, you look saddened?'

"The king jumped to his feet as his hand gripped the hilt of his sword. The man turned all about only to find his guards stretching their legs up by the road. Releasing the hilt of his sword, he chuckled to himself, thinking that the long ride had greatly worn on him. When the king knelt down again by the water, his eyes glimpsed the reflection of a woman dressed in white, veiled in a soft glowing light. He sprung back from water with a loud gasp, cursing as he fell onto his backside.

"Hearing there king's distress, the guards ran to his side and formed protective circle. Embarrassed, the king ensured his guards that nothing was wrong and dismissed them back to the road. Unquestioning, the guards bowed and left, leaving the king to return to the water's edge. Expecting to see the reflection, the king calmly gazed down at the face of a woman—who was now smirking at him.

"The king studied his surroundings and wondered aloud if he was losing mind. The woman assured him that he was not hallucinating, but with a smile, said teasingly that she could not say if the king was mad or not. The king touched her reflection upon the water and watched her image dissipated amongst the ripples, and so declared her an illusion; however, when the water once again became still, the woman asked if the king believed in the existence of the moon though he had never touched it. It was then that the king realized that the woman was the_ moon_, reflecting off the water in female form.

"The moon then noticed how the man's despair worsened. The king confessed that her beauty had enamored him upon first sight and that he inexplicitly felt as if he had known her his whole life. He divulged to her that his heart was heavy with despair and could bear no more. He desperately needed a queen; he wanted a family; he had no heir to the throne.

"Tickled by the king's flattery, and drawn to his sincerity, the moon confessed that she had known the king his whole life, for she knew all those who had ever stepped into the moonlight. She told the king that she thought him to be a rare and truehearted man that would rule his kingdom with kindness for decades to come.

"The pair discussed many things, sharing so much that the king became even more enamored by her. He wished to go to her, to join her in the heavens. He confessed that he would give anything to be with her since all the other women were pale in comparison. The king declared that if he could make her his queen, he would.

"After studying the king for a long moment, the moon slowly parted her lips with a smile and asked if the king truly meant what he said, which he confirmed as true. She then asked the king if he knew of the hot springs located between the twin mountains nearby, which he did. She bid him to meet her at the sacred springs where, with the universe as witness, she could take shape and become his wife.

"Exhausting his horse, the king raced to the hot springs, leaving his guard on the main road. The king ventured alone up the narrow trail to the hot springs where he found the woman's reflection waiting for him. Kneeling before the sacred waters, he watched as the pool of water began to capture the moonlight and give shape to a figure. A woman solely consisting of water rose out of the hot springs as she stepped forward out from the deeper depths until she stopped a few feet from shore. Unable to leave the water completely, her body sparkled like a giant diamond, illuminating the area around the hot spring with sparkling light.

"The moon lifted her hand in offering and told the king that if he were to join her in the sacred water, they would be married in the eyes of the creator of the universe.

"The king calmly shed his clothes and stepped into the warm spring water. Taking hold of her watery hand, he found her grip solid, as if flesh and bone. He then followed her lead and stepped into deeper water until only his head remained above the surface. He stared into her watery eyes to find them as blue as the daytime sky. Touching her face, he found her watery skin more soothing than silk.

"Their lips pressed together as the moon welcomed him beneath the water. The man's heart raced from the intense and most unexpected pleasure. He inhaled deeply between kisses, gasping for air as if under a heavy summer rain. Eventually, overcome by her touch, all his muscles tensed as his body involuntarily surrendered to her.

"The watery head of the woman then dissolved into the pool, and as the ripples subsided, her reflection returned. Undisturbed, the lovers shared their affections for each other, both overcome by joy.

"Having found his queen, the king promised to build a heated bath in the center of castle's courtyard so that they could be together.

"However, with a heavy heart, the moon let it be known that despite being able to communicate upon any watery surface—to those true of heart, she could only take shape in the sacred waters of this heated spring. When the king declared that he would move the water from the spring to the garden, the moon corrected him, explaining that this would not be possible since the water had to be linked to the twin mountains: he would have to remain at this spring if they were to be physically together. The moon asked if he could perhaps build a small castle in the mountains from which he could rule.

"The king insisted that he had a duty to his people much like the moon's obligation to the night sky. He had to rule amongst his people and proclaimed that moving his statehouse was not possible. Despite all of this, he promised with a heart full of joy that they would find a way to be together.

"The moon noticed the morning twilight and sighed, telling the king that she would be forced to give up her bodily form at sunrise. Her watery head rose out from her reflection and the pair kissed until the first rays of light touched her, releasing the water back into the spring.

"The king returned to his castle and proceeded to have his craftsmen build ponds and garden bathes throughout the grounds. He had a basin with an ornate pedestal installed on his bedroom balcony where he spent his evenings talking to his queen in private. Often, he would spend nights alone in the garden, talking to the moon's reflection. And yet, none of his servants knew why, for the king could not bring himself to tell anyone that he had taken a queen.

"The queen asked why he had not told his people, for she could not reveal herself to anyone until he announced their betrothal, which in turn, would remove the veil that hid her from the faint hearted.

"The king confessed that he did not know how to relay such an amazing event as this. The king worried that his people would declare him mad if he were to announce the moon as his queen; however, he promised her that he would soon let his people know, once he found a delicate way to break the news.

"But the king did not find a way; moreover, his bodily hunger grew, along with his aloofness. The king began to avoid all water, and began bathing in the dark. Removing the basin from his balcony, the king had all the pools and baths drained. Eventually, the king stopped going out at night, for he had convinced himself that the moon had all been a cruel trick of the mind. He would not accept anything outside the laws of nature. Despite what his eyes told him, the man refused to acknowledge what had happen. The fair and just king no longer believed, lost faith, and became faint at heart.

"The moon quickly realized that the king had changed, for he was no longer better than his fellow man, no longer true of heart. For weeks, the moon wept as her body darkened in the night's sky. And when her despair became too much to bare, the she turned red, burning in the night's sky. The people began to suffer droughts and famine. As turbulent weather lashed the lands, the winds violently stirred the seas.

"Most tragic was what would become of the moon's greatest secret. Had the king remained faithful and pure of heart for just a little longer, he would have learned that their special bond had created a child.

"Not of flesh and blood, this child of sprit would have brought abundant hope to the world, but its mother suffered from the despair triggered by the king's fallacy, poisoning the unborn child. Twisted by its mother's torment, the child of pure hope morphed into a dangerous power. And upon its birth, this unseen entity descended onto the world, settling into the dark recesses where those who dwell would misuse it.

"The people quickly learned that interaction with this power would only bring misfortune. Still, many sought out this invisible force and fell prey to its false promises, frittering away their lives until they became empty shells. Worse yet, those with ill intentions seemed to thrive when they bonded with the power and so misused the evil to spread their suffering throughout the world.

"But not all was lost, for the true of heart vowed to combat the evil unleashed. Those remaining few discovered a way to interact with this invisible force and bring forth the small amount of hope that still lingered within its power. These people named this force _magic_, and after a hard fought struggle, used this magic to divide the light from the dark, and thus restore the natural balance to the world.

"Conceived with love and birthed by a mother scorned, this is how magic came to be in our world."

Fidgeting nervously, Eryck glanced around the room to find all eyes on him—including the servants.

Myrielle pushed herself up in her chair. "Is that it?"

"Yes, my lady," replied Eryck.

Frowning, Myrielle sighed. "Why must all these tales have sad endings? It's just like the stories my sister sometimes tell."

Ser Daven stood from his chair. "Well, I enjoyed it. Moreover, it was well told. Thank you, Mr. Leder."

"You're welcome, my lord."

"I'm retiring for the night, Mr. Spyre. My compliments to Bessie as ever."

"Very good, my lord." The steward bowed as Ser Daven departed the room.

Tossing back her remaining wine, Myrielle slowly stood. "I'm retiring too. Good night, sister."

"Good night, darling." Cerenna smiled at her sister before reaching for an unfinished piece of buttered bread. She took a small bite, all the while staring at Eryck.

Feeling uncomfortable from her stare, Eryck raised a hand to the passing Mr. Spyre and whispered, "How long do I stand here?"

"Until dismissed," replied the castle steward. "Or until they all retire for the night."

Eryck remained where he stood as beads of sweat rolled down the small of his back. His eyes glanced at Cerenna for a moment to see her attention still fixated on him. Swallowing hard, he wanted to ask if he could serve her in any way, but he held his tongue, knowing not to speak unless prompted.

Finishing her bread, Cerenna drank the last of her wine and stood from the table. She then unexpectedly walked towards Eryck.

"I enjoyed your story, Mr. Leder."

"Thank you, my lady."

"But I thought the story about the chestnut tree was better."

Perplexed by her comment, Eryck swallowed hard, trying not to panic.

"From the book of pagan folklore, the one we had rebound this summer. The moon story was one of the tales within; was it not?" With an accusatory look, Cerenna continued, "Well, do you not voluntarily return our books from the binder?"

"Yes, my lady. Um..." Eryck's pulse quickened, for he had no excuse.

Cerenna's pursed lips broke into a smile. "Don't fret; your secret is safe with me. I'm glad you also enjoyed the book. It's one of my favorites."

With a drawn out exhale, Eryck's muscles began to relax as he returned her smile.

"Good night, Mr. Leder." Cerenna slowly turned away.

"Good night, my lady." With growing admiration, Eryck watched his ladyship exit the room.


	4. The Challenge

**04 The Challenge**

The next morning, in a field somewhere between Casterly Rock and Lannisport, Eryck unexpectedly found himself standing behind the two sisters in a covered viewing box. Here, they would spend the day observing the yearly Lannister tourney, which consisted of horsemanship, melees, and jousting. Not a particular fan of the tourneys—_for if you've seen one, you've seen them all_, Eryck was simply happy to be out from under the damp weather.

Not used to the hurry up and wait lifestyle of servants, the young tanner, now fool, wished for something to do. Shifting his weight back and forth on his tired legs, he jumped at any opportunity to make himself useful only to be shunned away by a dedicated servant. When Myrielle asked for a shawl to combat the damp chill, the sister's handmaiden, Niena, appeared before he could begin his search for the clothing.

Eryck even began to wonder if Ser Daven would send him back early since his sisters no longer seemed annoyed by his presence—if this was the brother's intention. The only person that continued to show any annoyance was the handmaiden Niena, and he did his best to avoid her.

Bunching his toes to keep the blood circulating, Eryck observed that Myrielle engaged heavily in the wine, looking as disinterested in the tourney as he. Considering her number of servings, Eryck thought her wine indulgence more impressive than the knights on the field. Shifting his attention to Ser Daven, Eryck thought that the man appeared disappointed with the day's events, often calling the matches predictable.

Cerenna, on the other hand, sat upright and abstained from drinking. She watched intently as each melee and joust unfolded before her, seemingly whispering each participant's name into memory.

When the referee of the tourney announced the conclusion of activates, Eryck was preparing to leave when Cerenna stood with a raised hand. As everyone paused to listen, her narrowed eyes scanned the field of knights when she turned to her brother with a growing smile. "Brother, may I propose a challenge?"

Relaxed from the day's wine, Ser Daven nodded, smiling with curiosity. "Sure. What do you propose?"

Turning back to the field, Cerenna called out, "My dear knights, I propose a melee challenge. The winner of my challenge will have the honor of kissing my hand and will sit with me at our table at tonight's feast. Who here among you accepts this challenge?"

Whispers rose from the crowd as the knights looked hungrily up at Cerenna. Myrielle shook her ahead, annoyed by the prospect of another unwanted guest at the Lannister table; meanwhile their brother nervously chewed his lip, interested to see who would step forward.

All whispers soon died out when the largest of the knights, Ser Jagger Wern, stepped forward—known by most as _Crusher_. The giant man approached the lordship's viewing box and bent to one knee, bowing his head.

Looking as if she expected this man to accept her challenge, Cerenna called out once more, "Anyone else?"

The remaining knights stood silent as no one else stepped forward, for none of them had ever bested Ser Jagger, the brutal man having only lost to the brothers of House Clegane.

Like the Clegane brothers, Crusher's anger was only second to his ferocity in combat. Legend claimed that Ser Jagger had single handedly held off a small column of soldiers on a narrow pass. When he took an arrow to the chest, he broke off the shaft and continued to fight until reinforcements attacked from behind, thus destroying the enemy. When the healers later tried to remove the arrow, the tip of the arrowhead broke off in the wound. Ser Jagger barked at the healers to leave the tip be, ordering them to close the wound. This left a scar with a small lump in the shape of a triangle just below his left front shoulder.

Eryck scanned the knights in the hope that others would accept the challenge, for he thought Ser Jagger to be an abhorrent human being. But the tanner considered most knights lacking civility with their frequent drunkenness and lewd talk that they would not dare speak before a lady. He sincerely believed that none of these knights met the standards that Cerenna deserved, especially, Ser Jagger Wern. _You're a pig. _He thought. _No, not pig, a disgusting wild boar—perhaps more dangerous, but just as vile._

Ser Daven stood to address the knights. "If no one else steps forward, Ser Jagger will be declared winner by default."

Unable to hide her disappointed, Cerenna glared at the remaining knights who refused to fight for her hand.

Ser Jagger glanced briefly at his fellow knights and said, "If I may suggest m'lady, if these _boys_ in knight's garb are too frightened, let the challengers choose the combat and the weapons."

"Anyone?" asked Ser Daven. "Perhaps a final joust?"

It sickened Eryck to know that Ser Jagger, with his crooked teeth and thin lips, would be kissing Cerenna's hand. "How about a spelling competition?" mumbled the fool.

Ser Daven heard his suggestion and guffawed. As Myrielle raised a hand to cover her smile, Cerenna shifted her glare to the fool.

"M'lord?" inquired the large knight.

"Ser Jagger, my sisters' jester has challenged you to a spelling competition."

Nervous laughter erupted around the tourney arena.

When Eryck stood on his toes to see past Ser Daven, he found a furious Ser Jagger staring back. With a frail voice, the fool turned to his lordship and said, "I...I... My lord, I was only thinking to myself, wondering if saying such a hubris thing would be entertaining to you. I did not mean to say it out loud."

"Your words were entertaining," said Ser Daven with a chuckle.

Ser Jagger stepped back for a better view of Eryck. "My lord, I accept the fool's challenge, but it must be the duel your sister requested."

"Very well." Ser Daven gestured to Eryck that the melee arena awaited his presence.

"My lord," pleaded Eryck. "I have no combat experience, no armor. I would be wasting everyone's valuable time."

Considering the fool's words, Ser Daven studied the insulted knight for a moment. "Ser Jagger, I cannot allow you to kill this young man; however, will you accept the challenge if I would permit wooden training swords."

Unable to mask his disappointment, the knight nodded his acceptance of the terms with a clenched his jaw.

Cerenna said to her brother, "I demand steel swords, at least the dulled training ones."

"No, sister." Ser Daven motioned to a nearby squire to retrieve the fool. "No matter how dull the blade, Ser Jagger would still take off his head."

Walking onto the melee grounds, Eryck felt the firm grip of the squire tighten as his steps started to waver. He understood that if he ran, he probably would never stop running. _Where would I go? I have no money._

Eryck accepted the wooden sword and shield from a second squire, who eyed him disdainfully. When Eryck noticed Ser Jagger's squire adjusting the knight's helm, he asked of the squire, "Do I get any armor? Or at least, a helm?"

"Would it make a difference?" retorted the squire before walking away.

Eryck soon found himself alone with Ser Jagger in the center of the melee arena. Looking to Ser Daven with pleading eyes, the young tanner silently prayed for a pardon, which did not come. He glanced at Cerenna and could feel her cool stare. Not only did he insult a knight, he insulted her.

Ser Jagger walked up to Eryck and said with a lowered voice. "Tell you what, you little shit, I'll let you have the first five attacks before I counterattack. Then I'm going to _teach _you how to _spell_."

Once Ser Jagger returned to his side of the circle, Eryck heard the referee call for combat to begin. Trembling, Eryck turned towards the waiting knight who loudly slapped his wooden shield with his wooden sword. The tanner's sweaty hands tightened around his wood sword and shield, but he only wanted to flee, to run until he reached a place where no one would know his name.

Almost immediately, the crowd around the field began to show their disappointment with boos and insults, urging Ser Jagger to charge. Small rocks began to pelt Eryck as he stood paralyzed, his face drained of all its blood. The insults hurled by the other knights combined with the crowd's, blending into a deafening white noise of shame.

Eryck looked to Cerenna once more and felt her bitter disappointment. He had turned her noble challenge into a joke. _I deserve this_, he thought. No longer aware of the mocking jeers, Eryck stepped towards his opponent. Having watched his share of tourney melees, Eryck knew that his beating would not end until he submitted or was unconscious. Moreover, he knew that submission would not be allowed until he was well bloodied.

Ser Jagger stood relaxed with sword and shield tauntingly lowered. If this were a true melee, the weapons would have been blunted steel used in a brutal exchange of blows until one of the knights could physically take no more. Even if Eryck could strike the knight quick enough, there were no exposed soft spots to target. As is, his wooden sword would be as effective as a mosquito.

Eryck lunged for the thin armor at the knight's neck, only to have his sword deflected with such force that it knocked the weapon from his grip, stinging his hand.

"One," barked Ser Jagger.

While the crowd laughed and hurled humiliating insults, Eryck gathered his sword and began circling the knight. Since Ser Jagger did not turn, Eryck lunged for a seam in his hip plate to have his blow deflected by the knight's shield. He felt a heavy boot strike his backside, shoving him forward face down onto the ground, landing with a hard thump.

Ser Jagger growled victoriously before bending forward to address Eryck on the ground. "Two!"

Scrambling to his feet, Eryck asked, "Would an apology do anything for the situation?"

"I'm going to crush your fucking skull."

"I guess not." With a dry throat, Eryck swallowed hard as he began sidestepping around the giant of a man. He slashed at the man's shoulder only to have his wooden blade easily deflected by Ser Jagger's sword.

"Four." The knight smiled in anticipation of Eryck's next attack.

_I'm dead_, thought Eryck. With no options left, Eryck lunged for the monsters heart and watched the sword harmlessly bounce of the chest armor.

"Five." When Ser Jagger slashed at Eryck, the man's sword shattered Eryck's shield when the young man instinctively raised his arm in defense.

Eryck cried out in pain as he stumbled backward. When Ser Jagger charged, the fool tumbled to the side just as the knight swung for his head. In a panic, Eryck sprinted for the neighboring jousting track. He slid under the dividing fence just as the knight's sword came crashing down, cracking the wood railing.

"Stop running coward!"

When the knight ducked under the railing, Eryck easily slid back to the other side of the fence. He noticed how the knight, with all his heavy armor, labored at the simple task. The young man suddenly recalled one book written about warriors from the east and realized that speed and agility was his one advantage. With the knight in pursuit, the fool shuffled down the fence to the ivy covered center section where the jousters collided and slipped over to the other side. When Ser Jagger tried to follow, Eryck took a swing at the knight's helm, missing when the knight jumped back.

From the other side of the jousting fence, the enraged knight lunged for the young man with his sword, the giant man's heavy mass slamming into the railing, splintering the wood.

Narrowly escaping the attack, Eryck stumbled backward, falling into the mud created by the jousting horses. He sprung into a crouched position as the Ser Jagger finished crashing through the broken fence. Eryck switched his sword to his shield hand before grasping a handful of mud, tossing the mess at the knight's helm, clogging the viewing slot. As the knight wiped at the mud, Eryck took the opportunity and attacked.

Ser Jagger dropped his shield and caught Eryck's sword with his leather-gloved hand, jerking the weapon easily from the fool's grip. Throwing the wood blade to the ground, he smashed it under his heavy boot. The knight next proceeded to pull off his own helm.

Eryck rushed forward and tackled the knight before he had finished removing the helm. The two toiled to stand in the mud as they wrestled each other. When the fool grabbed his opponent around the waist, the knight dropped his sword and began striking Eryck's back with his fist.

Stunned by the pain, Eryck felt the weight of the knight begin to crush him. However, the tanner was not as weak as he may have appeared, for his years pulling and lifting heavy animal hides gave him a strong back. Eryck surged upward, lifting the knight up and over his shoulder, dropping large man hard on his back. Stumbling forward, Eryck kicked the knight in the face, making significant contact. Eryck prepared to kick the knight's head again when he staggered in the mud, allowing the fallen knight to catch the fool's leg. Eryck struggled to pull free, only to fall onto his backside.

Ser Jagger tightened his grip and rolled onto young man. Twisting his body, Eryck elbowed the knight in the face, but Ser Jagger's rage kept the veteran knight focused—if stunned at all. The knight punch the fool in the face, leaving the young man disorientated.

The force of the punch overwhelmed Eryck as blood poured from his mouth. Sapped of his remaining strength, the fool watched hazily as the knight's fist came crashing down on his head one last time.

Eryck awoke to a splitting headache and the taste of blood mixed with dirt. Rolling onto his side, he began spitting onto the ground as the sound of familiar voices cut through the ringing in his ears. When hands pulled him up into a sitting position, he struggled to open his eyes. On either side of him, he discovered his friends Tobin and Ryver. Spitting once more, he said with heavy stammer, "Hey...guys."

Tobin gently gripped Eryck's chin to study his friend's eyes. "Eryck, do you know where you are?"

"Ya." Pulling away, Eryck spat more blood onto the ground. "I'm at the tourney and just got my ass kicked."

"Have you lost your mind?" asked Ryver.

"Apparently so; I am a fool after all. It's part of the job." Chuckling hysterically, Eryck gripped his ribs in pain. "Ouch. Um...what happened at the end?"

Ryver gripped Eryck's shoulder to give support. "Ser Jagger was pounding you into your grave—figuratively—when Ser Daven sent the other knights to stop him. He kicked you in the ribs as they pulled him away."

On the other side of the field, the crowd began to applaud enthusiastically, and the three young men turned to investigate. In front of the viewing box, Ser Jagger bent to one knee and planted a dry kiss upon the back of Cerenna's hand.

Perturbed, Eryck began climbing to his feet, shooing away his friend's offers of assistance. "I want to stand on my own." Standing straight, he lifted his arms in triumph and shouted across the field, "Tah-dah!"

All within earshot turned to gaze upon the bloodied fool. Ser Daven smiled with amusement until the man began to laugh aloud. In succession, the crowd joined their host with applause.

Not amused, Ser Jagger began marching towards Eryck when Ser Daven ordered him to halt, much to the knight's chagrin.

With his booming voice, Ser Daven addressed the crowd. "Please join me and congratulate Ser Jagger for his impressive performances at today's tourney."

When the crowd showered their appreciation upon Ser Jagger, the giant knight quickly gathered his composure and bowed to his lordship.

With attentions diverted, Tobin and Ryver promptly took Eryck by the arms and began escorting him from the field.

As Eryck staggered through the wild grass, he took notice of Ser Jagger. "Is that my blood on that pig's face?"

Tobin shushed him. "Not so loud. That's _his_ blood by the way. You elbowed him in the face near the end."

"Did I?" Eryck smiled.

"Ya," said Ryver. "We were all surprised too. At most, we thought that you might piss on his boots."

"Was that before or after my death?"

"After, perhaps when he kicked you," replied Tobin with a grin.

"I'll try to piss on him next time," said Eryck groaning from the rib pain.

At the edge of the tourney grounds, Mr. Spyre stepped out of the crowd, accompanied by two male castle servants. "We'll take him from here."

"He needs to seen by a healer," said Ryver.

"Ser Daven ordered me to take him to the castle maester." The steward waved for the two male servants to assist the fool.

Pressing a hand to his forehead, Eryck asked, "I would have thought Ser Daven would be done with me?"

"You could not be more wrong," said Mr. Spyre. "He said to everyone that you have been the most entertaining jester he's ever encountered. Plus, he likes how you have annoyed his sisters to no end."

"I aim to please," said Eryck with a forced smile.

**...**

After seeing the maester—where he received a small dose of milk of the poppy for his pain, Eryck stumbled to the servant's washroom where he quickly washed off the blood and mud before returning to his room to crawl into bed. Within minutes, the bruised and battered young man happily slipped into a warm medicated sleep.

Sometime that evening, he awoke to the sounds of a large feast. The festive music and merriment floated up the grand staircase and seeped into his room. The melodies stirred Eryck to sit up and open the door so he could listen more clearly. Music being such a rarity, Eryck got to his feet and dressed in his remaining set of clothes—his prior clothing torn and blood stained beyond repair.

Despite the room spinning, Eryck finished dressing and slipped on his shoes. With a firm grip on the railing, he descended the steps in search of the wonderful music. When he entered the feast hall, the smell of the food and the melodic sound of the live band only amplified his intoxication.

As he passed through the crowded tables, people he did not recognized congratulated him for not being killed. Many slapped him on the back in celebration. Had he not been medicated, Eryck would have found each friendly gesture to be excruciating.

Reaching the main table, Eryck found Ser Daven, his sisters, and Ser Jagger in merry conversation. He bowed in respect, holding onto the table with one hand for balance. "My lord, thank you for allowing your maester to tend to me. I would like to apologize for my behavior today."

"It was not me who was offended," replied Ser Daven

Eryck swallowed hard as he turned to the honored guest at the table. "Ser Jagger, please accept my apologies. You did not have to spare my life, but I am heartily grateful that you did."

Finishing his goblet of wine, the knight exhaled heavily as he exchanged a look with Ser Daven. "I accept your apology," he said, though he could not hide his disdain.

Eryck next turned to Cerenna, but before he could apologize, she rose from the table and exited the room through the nearest door.

With a wry smile, Myrielle raised her wine goblet to draw the attention of the cupbearer. "Don't mind her; I personally enjoyed your beating." With a nod, she beheld the honored guest through droopy eyes and said, "Thank you again, Ser Jagger."

The knight raised his goblet in salute. "I look forward to entertaining you again soon, my lady." The man's cool stare returned to the fool.

The room began to spin, and Eryck had to place both hands upon the table.

Ser Daven leaned forward over his unfinished dinner to address the young man. "Mr. Leder, get something hearty in your stomach and go to bed. You'll need your rest for tomorrow's journey."

"Journey, my lord?"

"Yes, you will be accompanying my sisters to King's Landing. They want to express their condolences in person to their cousin."

Despite his mental fog, Eryck realized whom he meant. "You mean Queen Cersei, my lord?"

"Correct. I will not be attending do to pressing matters in Riverrun. I expect you to be my eyes and ears on this trip. You can give me a full report when you return."

"Yes, my lord."

"Now, go to the kitchen and get something to eat."

"Yes, my lord."

Avoiding eye contact with Ser Jagger, Eryck forced himself upright and departed the feast hall. Becoming lost, he wondered the lower servant halls until he stumbled into Bessie's kitchen where he dined on roast beef, potatoes, and greens.

With half a loaf of bread and a partial bottle of watered down wine tucked under his arms, the young man eventually reached the top step to his floor when Cerenna exited her room, her blonde hair freshly combed to one side. Eryck backed against the wall and bowed his head, waiting for her to pass.

Cerenna paused at the top of the steps and turned sharply towards Eryck. "Do you know why I'm upset?"

Eryck slowly raised his head. "Because I'm a buffoon and ruined your challenge."

"No." She wiped away a pending tear. "I'm upset that only a fool dared challenge Ser Jagger. I know well enough that Ser Jagger is one of the finest knights of all the lands, but I thought that another knight would have risked injury or worse for my honor. None of them stepped forward."

Wanting to say something encouraging, Eryck opened his mouth but failed to find the words.

"You could have begged my brother not to throw you onto the melee field. Had you sacrificed your dignity and begged hard enough, I'm certain my brother would have relented. But you did not beg; you did not run away. You walked onto that field and faced that monster when no one else would."

"With all due respect, my lady. I shan't challenge another knight for as long as I live." Eryck watch with relief as her pressed lips morphed into a faint smile.

Sadly, her smile soon faded. "Do you think that had I been an actual princess, a woman of higher stature, that someone would have challenged Ser Jagger?"

"Doesn't matter," replied Eryck. "There are no knights, not here, nor elsewhere, who are worthy to sit at your table."

After a pause, Cerenna slowly turned away and began descending the stairs.

Staggering back to his room, Eryck perched himself inside his one window cell. He gazed at the moon as he finished his bread and sipped the watered down wine. He reflected over the day and smiled with the knowledge that he had somehow cheated death. The soreness began to return, and he knew that the pain would be brutal by the morning.

After a couple hours of enjoying the view, he raised the wine bottle in toast to the moon and resigned himself to bed. Kicking off his shoes, Eryck began pulling off his shirt when he heard a loud drunken voice in the hall. He stuck out his head to discover Ser Jagger and Cerenna slowly ascending the stairs. The large man laughed inappropriately and received a hush from his escort. Near the top, Ser Jagger's hand caressed her buttocks—with no objections from its owner. Cerenna reached back and gripped the knight's hand, pulling him even closer. Together they entered her bedroom with the door closing behind them.

With a mixture of emotions, Eryck closed the door to his room and sat down on his straw mattress. His opinion did not matter—he had no right to judge anyone—especially a Lannister, but he could not ignore disgust for that knight. _Cerenna deserves a King_, he thought. _Why would she...why?_

"It's none of my affair," he whispered bitterly. Finishing the remaining wine, he closed his eyes as little faith he had for a just world slipped away.


	5. The Blood

**05 The Blood**

Writhing on his straw mattress, Eryck dreamt of the tourney arena as he fought Ser Jagger with metal swords. The nightmare worsened when the knight began slashing off his limbs, removing each in a slow progression until only his head remained. Deafened by undulating cheers from the crowd, Eryck awoke when the knight's boot came crushing down on his skull.

Eryck sat up covered in sweat, his body the sorest it has ever been. He rubbed his neck while licking the insides of his mouth in a futile attempt to alleviate his dry mouth. Eventually, all his attention focused on his chronic headache.

Needing more sleep, Eryck reclined back onto the bed when something white flashed by his door. At first, he thought it to be one of the many servants that lived and work in the castle, but when he remembered shutting the door, he rose calmly to peer into the hall. When he saw the object that had passed by his door, he nearly gasped aloud.

A white deer, a young buck, stood in the corridor. Somehow, the animal's modest horns did not brush against the walls as it strolled along the open corridors that encircled the grand staircase. When the creature turned the corner, the animal peered at him with his red, albino-like eyes from across the vast open space, seemingly calling Eryck to follow.

Eryck had never encountered an albino deer but, but knew of the many folk tales about such rare creatures. The fool stared back, mesmerized by the animal's eyes, which were more than albino pink, they seemed to glow—burning like ambers. Despite his doubts, Eryck intuitively began to trail the animal since it appeared domesticated, walking carefully so not to disturb those sleeping.

Anticipating that the white buck would descend the stairs, Eryck sprung forward in terror when the animal unexpectedly turned and entered Cerenna's room. Eryck ran into her room to find the creature gone, the room empty. He turned slowly in a circle in search of life when he then approached the bed where, to his horror, he found the sheets soaked in blood. Feeling sickened, Eryck turned away to unexpectedly find the animal looking down on him. Above the hearth, the head of the white buck hung on the wall, its antlers clean and shiny, the eyes dead and grey. Eryck moved directly beneath the buck for inspection when the head bowed, calling out the young man's name.

Gasping, Eryck sat up in his bed, visibly shaken. When he noticed the room darker than normal, he looked up to find an object in his window, blocking the moonlight. Once his eyes adjusted, he recognized the white, spotless owl perched in his window, the moonlight giving the bird's feathers a faint glow. Without a sound, the predatory bird took flight away from the castle.

Eryck rushed to the windowsill in time to catch sight of the bird just before it disappeared into the shadows of the nearby forest. Staring into the darkness, Eryck began to shiver when the increasing winds brushed against his exposed skin. The winds whistled sharply as it cut around the sharp edges of the castle, leaking through the various cracks in the stonework.

Pacing about his tiny room, he slapped his trembling hands against his body in the hope of steadying them. He stretched his sore muscles as he continued to pace, his mind sorting the fact from fiction. Though his nerves eventually began to steady, he needed to satisfy his curiosity by peering out into the corridor.

Donning his shirt, he opened his door methodically slow in a futile attempt to minimize the hinges from creaking. He found the castle still and the air crisp as he stepped out into the corridor. If it were not for the moonlight seeping in from the many skylight windows, the passageway around the grand staircase would have been completely dark despite the few candles left burning on the corner posts. Stepping gingerly, Eryck moved along the corridor in the hope of not making a sound when he eventually reached the top of the staircase.

Satisfied that nothing was amiss, Eryck turned to return to his room, when he noticed Cerenna's door ajar. Though he knew better, Eryck paused to listen. _Did the pig leave once he was finished? _he wondered. _Is he a snorer_? Having to filter out the sounds from the gusting winds, Eryck continued to listen intently for any signs of life. He heard no snoring with the loudest sound being the thumping of his heart.

Deciding to return to his room, Eryck felt a chill race down his spine when he heard the hoot of an owl come from Cerenna's room. Eryck peered through the gap in the door to find the owl perched on the sill of an open window—the bird staring back at him.

Eryck pushed open the door to Cerenna's room—just enough to slip through, and watched the owl take flight. With nervous breaths, the fool stepped through the foyer until he could see a large four-poster bed with windows on either side. The bed covers were crumpled in a way that he could not tell if person—or persons—occupied it.

His body shivered at the thought of being found in Cerenna's room, for he assumed that he would be drawn and quartered if caught. Swallowing hard, he decided to leave when he heard a most terrifying shrill pass through the seemingly thick castle wall, possibly male in origin.

With cold sweat beading on his forehead, Eryck listened for a second shrill, which did not come. He took a couple steps closer towards the bed and peered over the covers to find two wrinkled pillows. Eryck dug his fingernails into his palms in the hope that he was dreaming. Turning to leave, he then saw the mounted buck from his dream hung over the room's smoldering hearth, sending another chill through his body.

Eryck would have burst into the hallway had he not been more terrified of being caught in Cerenna's bedchambers. He swiftly stepped for the door when a gust of wind caused hinges in the room to squeak. Eryck stopped when he realized that the sound of rusty hinges did not come from the main door, the only door. Another gust of wind caused the hinges to squeak a second time, and Eryck turned towards the bookshelves.

Standing before a wall of books, Eryck nervously listened in anticipation of the next wind gust. When the next pulse of air came, a section of bookcase wavered ever so slightly as to reveal the squeaky hinges of a hidden door.

Eryck easily pulled on the shelves to expose a downward spiraling staircase where a faint torch light below flickered on the wall. With his bare feet, he stepped onto the stone steps, letting the bookcase naturally swing close behind him. As he descended, he wondered if he could hear the sound of a hand saw.

Thinking he should turn back, Eryck inexplicably continued descending until he reached the mouth of the spiral staircase where he found a small candlelit room. In the center, wearing a crimson robe, Cerenna stood barefoot next to a table where a naked man lay, blood oozing from a small side wound located between the man's lower ribs. Cerenna appeared to be using a small handsaw to cut open the man's skull.

Eryck leaned against the stone wall for support as a warm nauseating sensation flooded his body, filling him with dread. With a hand over his mouth, he stepped around to see the man's skullcap being peeled away as it made a wet, grotesque sound when the membrane tissue between the bone and brain divided.

With artist precision, Cerenna next removed the brain with such grace, that it became evident that this was not the first brain she had removed. She set the brain gently into a round copper container before replacing a cone shaped cover topped with a simple valve. Setting the container aside on the corner of the wood table, she looked up at Eryck and smiled. "There. That went well."

Eryck pulled his trembling hand from his mouth. "God help me."

With an unwavering smile, Cerenna turned to a nearby shelf and calmly reached for several candles. Pausing, she said, "Don't kill him."

When words registered with Eryck, he spun around to find the handmaiden holding a long stiletto knife poised to kill him. She surged forward pushing Eryck back against the table, the tip of the blade pressing against his carotid artery. "If he runs," said Niena, "I won't be able to stop him."

"Do not kill him. I command it." Cerenna lit a long, thin candle by one of the many burning room candles and proceeded to pass the flame to the smaller candles that sat about the table. "We can trust him."

"I won't talk," pleaded Eryck. "I w-w-would never betray the Lannisters." Wide eyed, he stared pleadingly into the narrowed eyes of the handmaiden.

"Let him go, Niena." Cerenna exchanged a hard look with her handmaiden until the old woman withdrew the knife from Eryck's neck.

Trembling, Eryck turned to see Cerenna replacing a burnt candle from atop a glass pyramid suspended over the dead man's body. The glass was coated with streams of solidified candle wax that had flowed to the bottom edge in long streaks. Glancing nervously about the room, he discovered that some of the candles burned with a unique white flame while others burned orange or red. "Are you a witch?"

"No," replied Cerenna. "More like aspiring priestess."

"What are you doing?"

Cerenna held up an unusually bright candle made of black wax to inspect the inside of the glass pyramid. "I'm trying to capture his soul."

Eryck returned his quivering hand to his mouth. "Why?"

"To study it, why else?"

Eryck eyed the blood splatter on Cerenna's face, following it down to the stains on her flowing crimson robe. Glancing at the dead man's face, Eryck immediately identified him as the tournament knight, his wrists and ankles bound by metal cuffs bolted to the table. "Ser Jagger? How in the world did you restrain him?"

Not taking her eyes off her work, Cerenna replied, "He willingly put himself into the restraints."

"D-d-did you drug him, trick him?"

"No. We made a fair trade. I offered him my body in exchange for his soul. After we had sex in my bed, he followed me down here, assuming that we would be doing something exotic. I did not say a word until he had secured himself on the table."

Eryck could now see the faint trace of tears that had flowed down the sides of Ser Jagger's face. "Did I hear him cry out, just now, before I descended the steps?"

"Yes." Cerenna took the copper container containing Ser Jagger's brain and set it upon a wire stand on a workbench along the wall. "I cannot say how disappointed I was when he begged for his life. How shameful to hear such pleading from a champion." She took a short, fat candle and lit the wick, sliding it beneath the copper container. Next, she proceeded to attach a hose made from animal intestine to the copper lid, making sure it was free of kinks as she traced the line to an upside down glass jar suspended from a ring bolted into the ceiling.

Eryck noticed the severe bruising about the man's wrists and assumed that the knight had struggle for his life. "Ser Jagger didn't believe that you were actually going to take his soul; did he? He must have thought that you were playing. You tricked him."

With a heavy exhale, Cerenna's eyes sharpened as they fell upon Eryck. With snarling lips, she said, "I asked _twice_. He agreed _twice_."

Niena stepped around the fool and began undoing the restraints from the dead man. Undoing the second of four shackles, the handmaiden said with a bitter tone, "He was a knight and gave his word."

"We had an agreement," continued Cerenna, easily shedding her anger. "My body for his soul." Turning to her workbench, she set a worn leather strap across the surface before removing a metal scalpel from a box. With methodical precision, she began rubbing the thin metal blade back and forth over the leather surface, sharpening the edge of the scalpel.

Struggling from the shock, Eryck rubbed at the tingling in his face as his brain quickly pieced together the mysterious events. "So you're the reason why so many knights have disappeared. How many have you murdered?"

Cerenna turned and glared at him. "I've murdered no one." She approached the table and proceeded to slice open the man's abdomen.

Feeling faint, Eryck took several steps back. When the warm rush of nausea swept through him, he reached for the stone wall for support and began taking slow, deep breaths. The tanner who had seen his share of animal carcasses wanted to scream out in horror. He squeezed his eyes shut in the hope of waking from this nightmare.

Without looking up, Cerenna asked of her handmaiden, "Where is my bone saw?"

Niena picked up the small saw from near the man's head and passed it to Cerenna. "Right where you left it, my lady."

Sounding defeated, Eryck had to ask, "Have you ever captured a soul?"

"Not yet," replied Cerenna, but I expect that I'm getting close."

Eryck located a small stool in the corner of the room and took a seat. "Have you ever considered something easier? Like a chicken."

Cerenna lifted the man's liver out of his body. "What do you mean?"

"You could practice capturing the souls of chickens, or rabbits. That way, you won't risk running out of knights."

Setting the liver into a wood bowl held by the handmaiden, Cerenna returned to her surgical opening, looking perturbed. "Don't be absurd. Animals don't have souls."

"Sure they do. They experience pain and fear. When they have young, they care and love them."

Cerenna huffed in disagreement. "It's preposterous to think that animals have souls."

"Then why do animals exist?"

"They exist because the creator deemed them useful to us."

"Why do we exist?"

Pausing, Cerenna stared aimlessly into the man's body cavity. "To do God's bidding, all will be revealed to us in time."

"I hope your right." Eryck leaned forward, resting his elbows upon his knees.

"Awe, good." Beaming, Cerenna lifted the man's still beating heart from his body. "This one has a strong beat, as a knight's should." Inserting the pulsing muscle into a glass jar, she set it upon a shelf where the blood glimmered in the candlelight.

Eryck looked away as the painful throbbing in his head grew. He focused on the dark vacant corner in the room in a futile attempt to escape the horror. "So, do you think the soul resides in the heart?"

"No," replied Cerenna. "I've ruled out the heart. It's basically a useless muscle."

"What about love?" asked Eryck. "Does the heart facilitate our loves, our desires?"

Not wanting to mock the fool, Cerenna tried to restrain her smile. "There is no such thing as love."

"Surely you believe?"

"I believe in magic; I believe in life and death. I believe that our family is the rightful rulers of Westeros, but I don't believe in love."

Eryck lowered his head, perplexed by her response.

"I'm sorry if I offended your romantic sensibilities," continued Cerenna, "but love is nothing more than a temporary absence of fear and loathing. People may think they have fallen in love, but they have merely stumbled upon someone they hate much less than everyone else. Eventually, their prejudices balance out and what they think is love fades."

His mind racing under a thunderclap of pain, Eryck desperately wanted to change the subject. "So you think the soul resides in the brain?"

"It has to," replied Cerenna. "Our thoughts, our aspirations, our pain, it is all stored in the brain, and since our soul constantly torment us, it has to reside there too."

Focusing on what he considered more a philosophical debate, Eryck found the distraction a small relief. He rose from the stool and approached the table. "Maybe the soul needs multiple organs, or even the blood to which to bind. Once the person dies, the soul's bind is broken."

Cerenna exchanged a curious look with her handmaiden before asking, "What if the person loses an arm? Do they have less of a soul than everyone else?"

Eryck began to answer but paused to give the question more thought.

Cerenna studied the stickiness of the blood as she pinched and separated her fingers. "I like your idea about the blood. This warrants future experiments." She looked into the fool's eyes and smiled. "My brother was right; you have opened my eyes to something new."

The squeaky hinges at the top of the spiral staircase announced a new visitor. The handmaiden drew her stiletto blade before fading into the shadows. Unworried, Cerenna returned to work as Eryck nervously stared into the dark entrance of the staircase.

"Cerenna?" called out Myrielle from above.

"Here," replied her sister as the handmaiden reemerged from the shadows.

Staggering from the staircase, Myrielle tried to shield her eyes from the numerous burning candles of the small room. "Do you have any headache powder? I seem to be out."

The handmaiden retrieved a small bottle of dry brownish powder from a cluttered shelf of various concoctions and passed it to Myrielle.

The red headed sister squinted at the hand written label before saying, "Thank you." As she turned to leave, she noticed the unexpected visitor in the room. "What is he doing here?"

With the knight's spleen in hand, Cerenna shrugged, for she had no response. The blonde sister turned to Eryck. "How did you come to find me?"

"Um..." Eryck nervously looked to each woman in turn. "You might think it strange."

Cerenna subtlety waved the spleen in the air. "Stranger than this?"

"I guess not." Eryck fought the urge to vomit as he pressed a hand against his throbbing temple. "I had a dream about a white deer that wandered into your room. When I awoke, I quietly stood outside your door to make sure it was just a dream when an owl called me inside."

"What kind of owl?" asked Myrielle.

"A white one," replied Eryck.

"Spots?" queried the redheaded sister.

"It wasn't a spotted owl. It was pure white."

The sisters gave each other a concerned look.

"What does it mean?"

Cerenna dropped the spleen into a jar. "It means that the forces of dark magic are growing stronger. They are moving farther south. War will soon descend upon all the lands."

"Um..." Eryck stretched his neck, keeping his eyes diverted from the corpse. "Are we not already at war with the armies of the north?"

"_That_ war has already been decided." Cerenna set the spleen jar onto the shelf with the other harvested organs.

"But there are still disputed kings vowing for the throne."

With knowing smiles, the two sisters and the handmaiden shared looks with each other before returning their focus to the fool.

"What?" asked Eryck.

"It was never a war between kings; kings are no more valuable than their fools—no offense. The fight you are referring to has been a contest between queens."

"So...Queen Cersei is the victor?"

The women again glanced at each other until Cerenna replied, "All will be revealed in due time. Meanwhile, this will be a moot point if we don't win the bigger conflict. It will take more than male sacrifice to keep us alive; this isn't just a war between humans."

"Is it good versus evil?" asked Eryck.

"More like evil versus slightly less evil," replied Myrielle.

"Whose side are you on?" asked Eryck.

"Our family's," replied Myrielle. "Cerenna, I heard that the red woman has taken residence up north. Do you think she's aligning herself with the northern armies_?_

Cerenna shook her head. "When it comes to this, we are on the same side."

Just then, Myrielle recognized the dead man on the table. Anger flashed across her face. "Not Ser Jagger! Cerenna, why do you have to keep killing the cute ones? You knew that I liked him."

"Sorry, sister. I hadn't planned it." Cerenna leaned over the body to study the man's face. "You though he was cute?"

"Yes, in a rugged sort of way, for his size. I thought he'd be good for a ride."

Cerenna nodded towards the dead man's genitals. "Sister, you can't judge a book by its cover."

Upon closer inspection, the red headed sister's tempered face betrayed her disappointment. "Well, who would have guessed. Never mind then."

Somewhere between disbelief and insanity, Eryck numbly stepped back from the table, closer to Myrielle. "Do you participate in the same...research?"

"No. This is Cerenna's specialty. I study earth sciences."

"Poisons," said Cerenna, clarifying her sister's vaguely worded definition.

"I do more than that," retorted Myrielle. "I also create healing remedies." Dipping her pinkie into the headache powder, Myrielle's face turned sour when she rubbed the medicine against her gums.

"What about Ser Daven?" asked Eryck.

Cerenna lifted a small glass jar that now contained Ser Jagger's eyes up to a candle. Tilting the jar, she began to inspect the irises. "He knows nothing about our private activities. No one outside this room knows of what we do."

Eryck swallowed nervously as his gaze shifted between the sisters. "I promise to keep your secrets. If I should betray either of you, I will freely give up my life in penance."

The handmaiden stepped forward, her knife gripped tightly at her side. "Cerenna, Georgia, it is not safe to—"

"No," interrupted Cerenna. "The signs say that we can trust him."

Myrielle passed her headache powder to the suffering fool. "I agree with Cerenna. Besides, Niena, look at the plus side. When you dispose of the body, you won't have to cut him up into smaller pieces like the others. You now have help."

**...**

Trying to make as little sound as possible, Eryck rolled the burlap wrapped body off his shoulder into the horse cart. He glanced over his shoulders before crawling up onto the coachman's seat next to the handmaiden.

Under the early morning twilight, the handmaiden took the reins and skillfully guided the horse cart out the servant's gate onto a road that would take them to the sea cliffs. Instinctively, the horse followed the path through a dark section of forest and over a long swath of prairie. When they reached the Sunset Sea, the handmaiden guided the horse cart along the cliff's edge near a jagged ravine carved out by the ocean over centuries of time.

When Niena dismounted, Eryck followed her lead and then easily rolled the dead knight onto his shoulders—the task surprisingly manageable with the vital organs removed and the blood drained.

The handmaiden pointed to a particular spot along the ledge. "This is where you can toss him over. The ravine is too dangerous for anyone to search."

"Do you always dispose the bodies here?"

"No," replied Niena. "It's best to spread them out. Over the years, I've discovered half a dozen places."

Eryck stopped well before the ledge and turned to find handmaiden watching him. Unmoving, he matched her stare.

The woman frowned at the implication. "I will not push you. I have never disobeyed my girls."

"And neither will I." After making his declaration, he stepped closer to the ledge and heaved the body into the darkness below. Within seconds, a vague thump resonated up from the ravine over the sound of the ocean. With morning twilight behind him, he inhaled the cool air rushing up from the dark sea below. After taking another calming breath, he returned to the horse cart and joined Niena on the coachman's bench. He looked sullenly at the handmaiden and asked, "What if someone decides to look?"

"They won't. Besides, there is a lot of hungry sea life down there. Once they've fed, the high tide will sweep out the bones." The middle-aged woman turned her face into the breeze and closed her eyes with a sigh. "Not what you expected, is it?"

"What?"

Opening her eyes, the handmaiden reached for the reins and began coaxing the horse forward with a couple clicks of her tongue. "Something tells me that you were hoping to experience something different inside those castle walls."

"Perhaps." Eryck leant forward onto his knees. "I didn't expect to see a dead knight."

"If you were king, do you think your castle would be different?"

Eryck found the question perplexing. "I don't know. I never had a large family. I don't think I could ever relate to such a complex family. Is it difficult serving the Lannisters? Are they all...?"

"Peculiar?" The woman smiled. "Yes. And trust me; you don't want to know even a fraction of their secrets."

Staring forward, Eryck hemmed. "They seem so normal otherwise. Cerenna at least. She is what I'd consider a princess."

Niena sighed as her voice became pensive. "Their brother is a good honest man."

"Is being good and honest a bad thing?"

"It is if you are to be the Warden of the West or the Lord of Casterly Rock. Lord Tywin was a good man. He may have done some unpopular things in his time, but he did what was needed for the Lannisters, and the Westerlands. I hope they catch his murderer."

"Do you really think the son did it?"

Niena shrugged. "From what I've seen over the years, anyone with the name Lannister could be suspect."

"Will it be safe for us when we visit King's Landing?"

The handmaiden smiled as she tightened her grip on the reins. "It's not safe anywhere."

"Ya, sure, but should I expect more madness when we reach the Red Keep?"

"Yes. Probably worse." The woman's face became distant as she recalled the many disturbing events witnessed over her many years of services. She turned her head slightly to give the young man a supportive look. "Just don't go wandering into the city, and most importantly, don't wander about the castle. If the sister's allow you to remain in the servant's room, stay there. Secrets in the Red Keep are apt to kill you."

"How can you live like this?"

"Death is just as common inside Casterly Rock as it is on the streets of Lannisport. Consider yourself lucky that you will only be part of their world for a week. When this is over, go back to your simple life and find a simple girl with which to settle down. Be happy that you haven't been permanently swept up into their world."

"I cannot imagine constantly living in a world where a misspoken word or misconstrued look could kill you. Even someone's mood swing could be fatal. Have you ever considered leaving it all behind?"

"No," replied Niena. "I served their mother. She saved me from being another alleyway whore; she gave a respectable job and decent servant's quarters to sleep in. I eventually earned the right to be her handmaiden, and when she died, I promised to watch over her daughters until my last dying breath. I helped birth those girls and vow to see them through."

"Did their mother dabble in magic?"

"No."

With the sun on the horizon, Eryck studied the handmaiden's face. "Do you believe in magic?"

Niena glanced at the fading moon. "I want to."

Has either of the sisters done anything that you'd consider…magical?"

"To be honest, I'm not sure, but for all our sakes, I honestly hope not."

"Why?"

"Magic is nothing more than man's desire for an easy fix to life's troubles. And whether it is real or not, magic has its price."

Eryck rubbed the tight muscles in his neck. "Ya, I get that now."


	6. The Queen

**06 The Queen**

Ser Daven poked his head inside the enclosed horse drawn carriage, pleased to find his jester accompanying his sisters and their handmaiden. "Well, sisters, it looks as if you've grown attached to your jester?"

Cerenna responded with a crack smile. "He has his uses. Close the door, brother. You're letting in the cold morning air."

"Mr. Leder, you keep an eye on these two," said Ser Daven as he waved a finger between the women. "Who knows what kind of mischief they could get themselves into?"

"Yes, my lord." With his lack of sleep, Eryck struggled to appear alert this early morning, his scratchy eyelids feeling heavier by the minute.

"Right. You better get going if you are to arrive before nightfall. Safe journey to all of you." Shutting the carriage door, Ser Daven nodded to the coachman to depart.

As the express carriage lurched forward, a half dozen mounted knights serving as escorts galloped ahead to scout the road as a second half dozen trailed behind the carriage. If no delays were encountered, Eryck would find himself in King's Landing in just one-day's speedy travel.

Once the carriage had passed through the castle gate, Myrielle pulled out a small vial of clear red liquid. She took a small sip and passed the vile to her sister, who proceeded to do the same.

Cerenna offered the vial to Eryck. "Here. You've earned it."

Accepting the vial, Eryck stared at the red liquid. "What does it do?

"It helps you sleep," replied Myrielle. "It's perfect for long carriage rides."

When he looked to the handmaiden, he received an ominous shake of her head. "Um, thank you, my lady. I should have no trouble sleeping without…it." Eryck's words trailed off when he found Myrielle already unconscious against the corner of the carriage. He passed the vial across to Niena for safekeeping just as Cerenna's mouth became slack when she too fell into a deep sleep.

"Wise choice," said the handmaiden, slipping the vial into her pocket.

"Must be powerful to knock them out that fast."

"It is." Pulling a pair of blankets from a shelf above her head, the handmaiden proceeded to tuck in the redheaded sister. "Myrielle discovered it while studying Essos poisons."

"I don't need anything to sleep. I'm ready to pass out without it."

The maiden next covered Cerenna with the second blanket. "Sleep is only part of the reason they take it. The concoction also induces vivid dreaming. The sisters claim that they sometimes communicate with the dead."

"Have you tried the medicine?" asked Eryck.

"No." The handmaiden retrieved two more blankets, passing one to Eryck. "I wouldn't be able to watch over them if I did."

"Do you think they actually communicate with the dead?"

"No. I attribute their visions to youthful optimism and the idea that they can change the world. They think they are blazing new trails with new thoughts and new intoxicants, but they are ultimately retreading over forgotten paths taken by our ancestors. Inevitably, these are paths we all must take when we are young."

Eryck pulled the blanket over his shoulder. "I've never had those desires. I just want to be me and live a quiet life. I don't even like drinking spirits. I only drink ale at the tavern because it's safer than drinking water most of the time."

"Good on ya," commented the handmaiden.

"I cannot wait to return to my little shack in the woods," said Eryck, thinking of his books.

"Good on ya again, Mr. Leder." Niena reclined into her corner of the carriage and shut her eyes. "You may survive this week after all."

Closing his eyes, Eryck hoped for the same, but unfortunately, each day seemed to have a new set of horrors.

As they passed over the hills near Deep Den, the fool awoke when the carriage struck a rut in the road. The handmaiden also awoke, groaning her displeasure.

"Are you well?" asked Eryck.

"Yes, but my old body feels every rock and rut on this blasted road." She glanced out the window at the familiar landscape. "At least we should be out of the hills soon."

Eryck glanced out the back window and took notice of the roads wide width. "Is this road maintained?"

"It's maintained," replied Niena as she closed her eyes. "The Lannisters frequently send work crews to inspect and repair it. They even staff the outposts along the way with Lannister soldiers. They view this road as being the most important road in all of Westeros, hence the name Goldroad."

"Why is it so important?"

Niena opened her eyes and scowled at the young man. "It keeps them connected to King's Landing. The Lannisters are never more than a speedy day's ride away, never unaware of the goings on. In one form or another, they always have a hand in the capital's affairs." Repositioning herself for more bone-rattling bumps, the handmaiden again closed her eyes.

Sometime later, Eryck finally dosed off for more needed sleep when a jarring thud sat him upright. To his dismay, he found himself alone inside the carriage and immediately realized that he was dreaming. As snow fell upon the countryside, he calmly gazed out the windows with surprising merriment, enjoying the blanketed white landscape. He then looked out the back window and found the white buck from his prior dreams, following close behind, its ember eyes unmistakable. "Is death following me?" he whispered to himself. "Am I next?"

Returning to his seat, Eryck stared into the passing forest when he spotted a pair of glowing eyes; _the owl,_ he thought. Peculiarly, daylight quickly began to rescind, and the sets of eyes grew in number—along with their glowing intensity. Blackness engulfed the carriage, and the road became smooth, as if floating on a river. When the distant eyes morphed into stars, the familiar hoot of the owl resonated from the coachman's seat. Sticking his head out the open side window, Eryck found the white owl perched next a silhouette of a man who appeared to be missing his skullcap, a hollow space where his brain should have been. The silhouette turned to reveal the face of Ser Jagger.

Waking with a start, Eryck found everyone in their place inside the carriage. Immediately, he hunched over in the attempt of lessen the growing pressure on his bladder. When he gazed upon the sleeping sisters, he thought their medicated slumbers had brought out the rosiness in their cheeks. Their dreaming caused subtle movements to their lips and facial muscles, and for a moment, he pondered that the two were communicating with each other in a shared dreamscape, ultimately shaking his head at the absurd thought.

When the procession paused at an outpost for a break and an exchange of coachman, Eryck promptly exited the carriage to relieve himself. Urinating against a tree, he gazed up into the canopy, half expecting to find the white owl. Unsure as to why, he felt disappointed not to have spotted the bird of prey. When the fool climbed back into the carriage, he discovered the handmaiden absent but soon spotted her when she emerged from the roadside brush.

Eryck offered his hand to the handmaiden and assisted her into the carriage. "Should we wake the sisters so they can relieve themselves?

"No." With a motherly smile, Niena began to spread her blanket over her lap. "Just don't get in their way once we arrive at the Red Keep. They may step right over you on their way to the privy."

Just before nightfall, the express carriage reached King's Landing and was allowed immediate passage through the gates of the Red Keep. The handmaiden tossed her blanket aside and began digging in one of her pockets. "We'll wake them now. Remember, they will proceed straight to their rooms to freshen up."

Nursing the pounding headache brought on by the tedious carriage ride, Eryck sat up and touched Cerenna on the shoulder, shaking her lightly. "My lady, we have arrived."

"It will take more than that to wake them." The handmaiden, held up a small vile of waking salts. "You have to use the spirit of hartshorn to pull them out of their medicated slumber." Opening the vile, Niena waved it under the redheaded sister's nose.

Twisting away, Myrielle growled as she shielded her eyes, "Enough already! I'm awake."

Eryck accepted the salts from the handmaiden and sniffed the top of the vile, snapping his head back in pain. "This could wake the dead."

"That it does." The handmaiden smiled as she gestured for Eryck to wake the other sister.

Eryck waved the waking salts under Cerenna's nose and watched her twist in agitation until her eyes snapped open.

She swatted at Eryck, striking his thigh hard with her hand. "I'm awake!"

Both sisters continued to curse and twist in their seats as they unwillingly returned to the conscious world. With deep inhales, they began to compose themselves, glancing at one another as if they shared a secret.

Rubbing his leg, Eryck passed the smelling salts back to Niena and proceeded to shove the numerous blankets under his seat.

Capping the salts, the handmaiden slipped the vile into her pocket as prepared her things. "Eryck, I want you to share my quarters while we are visiting Red Keep. I don't want their steward assigning you to some random servant quarters. It's far too easy to become lost in this place."

"Yes, ma'am." Eryck began straightening his servant's attire, making sure he looked the part. "Thank you for trusting me?"

"Do I? What makes you think that you can trust me?" The handmaiden slowly drew her finger across her throat. When her smile broke free from pressed lips, the two sisters joined their handmaiden in laughter.

With a blushing face, Eryck shared their smiles, realizing that he was no longer a stranger to them; however, it did not lessen his worry—or erase from his mind the horrific things he had witnessed the night before.

At the main door, they were greeted by the castle steward, the sisters promptly headed unescorted to the rooms they often frequented during their stately visits.

In a small servant's room located on the same floor as the sisters, Eryck set down the handmaiden's luggage between two small beds. He sat onto one of the beds, pleased to discover the mattress stuffing not to be straw. Squeezing mattress, he assumed the filling to be cotton and/or wool. He laid down and marveled at the softness, for he had never lain on anything that was not of earth or straw until this moment. Though the tiny room was nicer than anything he could imagine for himself, he still longed for his shack in the wood—to be rid of all the stress.

With only enough time for a brief rest, Eryck followed the handmaiden to the dining hall where the Lannister sisters joined other distinguished guests for supper. Following the handmaiden's advice, the fool stood to the side, standing completely still, inconspicuous among the abundant kitchen staff and servants, in the hope of not being noticed.

Though the queen was absent, Eryck found the entire dinner distressing. Often he would often catch the servants discreetly pitching a bite of food as they walked from the tables with cleared plates, but the hungry young man refrained from sampling food when asked to remove the occasional food tray. Eryck continued to fear the simplest bite since the any faux pas could spell disaster.

After the feast, Eryck walked alongside the handmaiden as they followed the sisters down a wide corridor. The art and architecture of the castle left Eryck astounded. He gleefully gazed upon each painting and stature as the sisters progressed through the Keep's corridors.

Eryck aimlessly followed the procession through a set of double doors, past a pair of guards, when he came to an abrupt stop upon spotting the queen as she verbally greeted her cousins. Led by Niena's hand, Eryck followed the handmaiden to a dimly lit corner of the room, wishing he were truly invisible.

Rising to her feet, Queen Cersei set down her wine glass and embraced her cousins, kissing them on their cheeks. "Cerenna, Myrielle, thank you for coming."

Cerenna curtsied. "My queen, thank you for inviting us."

"Cousins, you know we can skip formalities when in private." Cersei returned to her plush sofa, scooping up her wine glass along the way.

Myrielle sat in a matching plush chair and signaled to a young female cupbearer for a glass of wine. She turned to gaze upon the queen and smiled. "Seeing our cousin on the throne, well, you don't know how much joy it gives us when we get to address you as _my queen_."

Cerenna took a wine glass from a servant's tray. "Remember, when we were children playing in Casterly Rock, Myrielle and I always said you'd someday be queen. We could sense it."

"Well, let the formalities stop for the rest of the night; it's just us girls...almost." The queen's focus drifted to the lone male in the room.

Knowing that he was the queen's target of interest, Eryck's insides tighten as he stared at the floor. With growing panic, he struggled to stand still, his nerves unravelling.

Queen Cersei swirled the wine in her glass. "Cousins, why did you bring an unknown male into my bed chambers?"

Straightening in her chair, Cerenna set aside her wine glass. "Please forgive me, Cersei. He's my responsibility. Um...our brother—"

"Is he a special kind of handmaiden? A eunuch perhaps?"

"No, ma'am," replied Cerenna.

"He's our jester," said Myrielle. "Our brother ordered him to accompany us for a week as part of his twisted sense of humor."

Without lifting his head, Eryck felt the queen's eyes dissecting him.

"You brought a _fool_ into my chambers?"

"Please accept our apologies, my queen," said Myrielle, sounding truly remorseful. "I should have said something before we sat down."

After a long, inquisitive stare, Cersei revealed her devious smile. "Don't fret cousins. We're all family here."

"If it matters," continued Myrielle, "he's not really a fool."

Biting her lip, Cerenna shot her sister an angry look.

Cersei crossed her long, slender legs as she leaned back in her chair. "Not a real fool? Do tell; what kind of man did you bring into my chambers?"

With a heavy sigh, Cerenna confessed, "He's a tanner apprentice."

Except for the crackling fire in the hearth, the room became silent. Slowly, Cersei rose from her chair. "Step forward, _boy_."

Eryck promptly stepped before the queen, keeping his head bowed.

"How have my cousins treated you?"

"Kinder than I deserve, my queen. I've only nearly died once."

With a hint of amusement, Cersei glanced at her cousins. She then used her fingertip to lift Eryck's chin. "Is this why your face is so bruised?"

"Yes, my que—ma'ma. Yes, ma'am."

Releasing his chin, the queen turned back to her cousins. "He knows how to address a queen. You've trained your pet well."

Relaxing in her chair, Myrielle returned to her wine glass. "He's housebroken too; he hasn't pissed on the floor once."

A single bead of sweat ran down Eryck's face to the bottom of his chin where it combined into a larger bead of perspiration. To his horror, he felt the bead of sweat fall from his chin onto the pristine polished wood floor, making an audible splat.

Cersei looked up from the splat and began studying Eryck's face with earnest curiosity. "Do I frighten you, boy?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Why?"

Eryck's mind raced in search of a delicate answer. "It would give me great shame if I should dishonor my grace."

Cersei sidestepped around Eryck, laying her hand upon his shoulder. "Cousins, you may want to consider keeping this one. He's a proper ass kisser."

Cerenna forced down a large sip of wine. "Keeping him permanently has been a thought."

The queen returned to her sofa, spilling a tiny amount of wine on the floor when she plumped down onto her seat. "Cousins, do you know what the best part of being the queen regent?"

"The clothes," replied Myrielle.

The queen gave a drunken laugh before pointing at Eryck. "The fear. How often do women find men in _that_ position?" Gnawing her lip, Cersei's eyes focused on Eryck. "Fool, do you think a queen should be allowed to permanently hold the thrown, even after her son becomes of age?"

Eryck replied swiftly, "Yes, ma'am."

"Why?"

"The world would benefit from your feminine patience and wisdom."

"Feminine patience? There's a misnomer if there ever was one. We're only patient due to our inability to _strike back_. Where do you think men would be if it were not for their physical strength and lust for violence? Answer me that, _fool_."

With heightened worry, Eryck felt the pang of shame brought forth by the queen's general insinuation. Unsure if the last question was rhetorical, he answered nonetheless. "Without their physical strength and arrogance, men would be bumbling cowards traveling from tavern to tavern, pining for a wise woman to guide them through their meaningless lives. Men would need someone to tell them that things are how they are supposed to be, that there was a reason for all the madness in the world."

"Is that what you are?" asked the queen. "A coward?"

"Perhaps." Eryck swallowed without looking up. "It is not for me to say, ma'am."

Cersei's finger slowly tapped the side of her wine glass. "Have you ever forced yourself on a woman?"

"No, ma'am."

Her lip curled one side. "Have you ever been with a woman, or boy, if that matters?"

"I have been with a woman."

"Let me guess, a whore?"

Eryck's brow furled from the queen's barb. "I would never call her that."

"But you paid for the privilege of sticking your tiny penis in her; did you not?"

"Yes, ma'am." Eryck's face sagged with the confession.

Staring at the fool, Cersei took a long sip from her wine glass. "This clearly makes you sad. Why?"

"I... As soon as it was over, I immediately wished that I had instead spent the money on candles."

"Candles?" The befuddled queen turned to her cousins for clarification.

"He's literate," clarified Cerenna. "He likes to read at night."

Myrielle signal to the cupbearer for a refill. "Damn waste of time if you ask me."

With a knitted brow, the queen returned her gaze to Eryck. "What books? I can't imagine you owning any."

"I don't," replied Eryck. "I transport books for the local bookbinder, and in exchange, the binder allows me to hold onto the books for a couple days so that I can read them."

The queen smiled. "That's quite clever, for a fool."

Myrielle sprung from her chair and slid behind Eryck, pinching his cheeks. "You can keep him if you like, cousin."

"He's cute," said Cersei, "in a homely sort of way. But I'm overflowing with fools at the moment."

Eryck swallowed hard as his sweat pooled in the small of his back.

Worried that the queen had taken too much interest in Eryck, Cerenna fidgeted in her chair. "Cousin, do you want me to send him away?"

The queen took another sip of wine and then pointed to the far corner of her bedchamber. "No. He can lay with the other male in the room."

Everyone turned to discover a young lion cub, the size of a large dog, resting on a bed of straw. Noticing the attention directed his way, the cub lifted its head with ears perked.

Cerenna rose from her chair and stood beside her sister. "He's gorgeous. I cannot believe we didn't notice him when we entered. Cersei, how long have you had him?"

The queen stood and began staggering towards the feline. "I got him a couple months ago. He was a gift." Kneeling at a set distance, the queen waited for the young lion to approach, dragging its chain taught. Cersei began scratching the cub behind the ear, releasing a deep, rolling purr from the creature. "His name is Jaime."

The sisters exchanged knowing looks, well away of their cousin's secret.

"He looks dangerous," said Eryck unable to hide his unease.

"He is," said Cersei. "Go on now; lay in his bed. Keep him company while the grownups talk."

Myrielle stared at the animal, keeping her distance. "Cousin, has the animal been fed recently? He looks hungry."

"I think so," said the queen, smirking. When Eryck failed to move, the queen's playful demeanor turned cold as she eyed him. "I won't ask you again."

Eryck gingerly stepped over the chain and sat on the young lion's straw bed. The cub immediately turned towards Eryck, sniffing and circling him as Eryck ducked under the chain.

"If I were you," said the queen, "I'd lay down now before he thinks you want to play."

Lying on his side, Eryck soon felt the heavy weight of the young lion press down on him as the cub stretched out behind him, draping its paws over the fool's body.

"Eryck, scratch his stomach," suggested Cerenna. "Make sure he knows that you're his friend."

"Be careful where you scratch," said Cersei, "or else, he may become more than a friend. If he bites down on the back of your neck—and somehow doesn't kill you, it would be in your best interest to simply submit."

When Eryck detected faint growls amongst the animal's purrs, he calmly reached back and began scratching the belly of the wild cat. Like a giant kitten, the cub embraced him, its sharp claws pressing through his cloths, pressing sharply against his skin, arresting Eryck's breathing.

Resting a hand on the shoulders of each cousin, the queen smiled triumphantly. "We are Lannister women, hear us roar." Giggling from the wine, she turned away and said with distain, "Perhaps, _fool_, this experience will give you a better understanding of what it's like to be a woman...if you should survive till morning."

Once the three Lannister women returned to their wine, Eryck closed his eyes and began to pray, for he knew that he was in for an exceptionally long night.


	7. The Keep

**07 The Keep**

Trapped under the lion cub, Eryck had just fallen asleep when he awoke to loud purring in his ears. When his eyes came into focus, he found a casually dressed knight of the king's guard kneeling beside the lion cub, scratching the animal behind the ear.

The knight, who appeared good-natured, moved his scratching to the animal's neck as he smiled at the young man. "Good morning."

"Morning, my lord." Eryck tried pulling away from the animal's claws before smiling politely at the knight. "If you would be so kind, please don't make the lion cub too happy. When the lion is happy, he pulls me closer and his claws poke me."

The knight glimpsed at the tiny stains of blood that dotted Eryck's shirt about the shoulder. "They don't look too bad. It could be worse." The man held out his other arm, revealing a scarred stump where his hand should be.

Eryck's eyes widened with fear. "The lion did that?"

"No," replied the knight with a light chuckle. "The beast that did this was nothing like this magnificent creature." The man lowered his stump arm. "Who are you?'

"Eryck Leder, my lord. I serve the ladies Cerenna and Myrielle Lannister. The Queen ordered me to lay here and keep her lion cub company."

"I see." The man began petting the animal with long, heavy strokes. "That does sound like something the queen would do." The knight then coaxed the lion off Eryck with tender tugs on the collar and proceeded to help the fool to his feet.

As Eryck brushed himself off, he began to hear various snoring sounds from the three Lannister women, all of whom had drunk strawberry wine through much of the night. On her plush sofa, lay the Queen, snoring the loudest of them all.

"How long did they stay up?" asked the knight.

"I believe they were awake until a couple hours ago, my lord."

"Was it bad?"

Hesitant to say, Eryck nodded slowly as he stretched the sore muscles in his back. "I thought sitting in a tavern with braggart, drunken men was annoying and stupid. That is nothing compared gossiping women."

"That's why we don't allow women in the army." The engaging man looked back at the women before asking, "Did they talk about me by chance?"

Eryck gulped nervously, unable to put a name to the face. "I must apologize, my lord. I have never been introduced to you."

Amused by the young man's nervous confession, the knight's grin broke into a smile. "I am Jaime Lannister, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, brother to the queen."

Glancing at the stump, Eryck recalled the stories that had spread like wildfire from tavern to tavern, most spun to great untruths. "The stories were true."

With a look of curiosity, the man clasped his good arm over his stump. "I have spawned many a tavern story. To which are you referring?"

"They said that the kingslay..., that you, my lord, were captured and that they cut off your sword hand."

"Yes. Unfortunately that is true."

"Do knights do such things to each other? That doesn't sound honorable."

"They weren't knights, not that it matters. And don't make the erroneous assumption of thinking that there is honor between knights. Nasty stuff, being one. Honor is sacrificed for the title."

"Did you want to become a knight, my lord?"

"I thought I did." Appearing reflective, the knight looked down at the lion cub. "We don't actually choose our lives. Life seems to sweep us up and guide us to wherever the currents decide. Did you want to become...whatever you are?"

"A fool? No, my lord."

"See. The only thing we control is our temperament towards death. Our passing is the only thing guaranteed to us upon our birth, and yet, we misunderstand our demise to the point we destroy our lives." The knight turned to gaze upon the queen. After a long pause, he sighed softly.

"My apologies again, my lord. I never meant to insult the queen just prior?"

The knight shrugged. "Don't care." The man turned towards his sister. "However, we shouldn't leave her sleeping like this. If she should wake with a crooked back, someone could die for it. Help me move her to her bed."

"What?"

The man lifted his stump. "You don't want me dropping her; do you?"

"No, my lord."

Moving across the room to the queen's bed, the knight began pulling back the blankets. "Carry her over here. Trust me; she's not about to wake."

Taking a deep, nervous breath, Eryck slid his arms under the queen and lifted her from the sofa. With gritted teeth, he swiftly carried the heavier than expected woman towards the bed and gently set her down. When her snoring returned, the fool sighed with relief. Eryck began stretching his back when his eyes fell upon exposed flesh that had slipped from the Queen's loose fitting attire.

Lightly elbowing Eryck, the knight said in a hush tone, "Hey now." Trying not to laugh, the brother straightened his sister's clothing and covered her with the bedding. With his sister tucked in, Ser Jaime returned to the lion cub.

Eryck drifted to the center of the room where Cerenna sat curled up in a large chair and Myrielle lay before a smoldering hearth of glowing embers. He found the handmaiden reclined in the corner of the room on a small sofa. It was then that the young man noticed the absence of everyone else. "Where did the servants go?"

Disconnecting the lion's chain from a large ring bolted onto the floor, the knight shrugged. "She must have dismissed them once the gossiping became too revealing."

"What should I do about them?" Eryck gestured to the sisters.

"Do whatever you want." With the lion cub at his side, Ser Jaime headed for the door. When he passed Eryck, he paused. "If our queen takes notice of the lion's absence, tell her that those named Jaime have decided to stretch their legs."

Once the knight departed with the lion cub, a befuddled Eryck sat on a nearby chair to inspect his superficial wounds. The blood had dried in spots, fastening the shirt to his skin. As he peeled the scabs free, he eventually declared his clothing ruined for a second time—by yet another unfortunate incident—as life seemed peculiarly more dangerous inside the castle's protective walls.

As he collected his thoughts, the decor of the room soon grabbed his attention. Eryck stood and gazed about the overly decorated room. The fine art and furniture seemed to be of another world with their detailed carvings and artisanship.

He spotted a jade carving on the mantelpiece and began studying the green ornamental rock by candlelight. Probably procured from somewhere in Essos, the foreign markings captivated him as his mind invented a story to their meaning, conceiving the ornate carvings of figures to be those of their gods.

The room of abundant art left Eryck awestruck, or at least, it should have. The people snoring within tainted all the magnificent artwork, the rare wood furniture, and the marble tabletops. The ugliness of the past few days had somehow devalued the artisan's work by simple association. _Would the people still abide by you if they knew of your heinous acts_, he wondered.

Tired of pretending to be a fool, Eryck looked forward to seeing his friends Tobin and Ryver at the end of his hellish week. His friends may be gritty, speaking with limited vocabularies about whores and excessive drinking, but they were good people who did not steal—or murder. They did not desire shiny armor for glory's sake, nor did they look down on anyone.

Thinking best to stay on Ser Daven's good graces, Eryck decided not to abandon the sisters to their impromptu sleeping arrangements.

First picking up Cerenna, Eryck carried her out into the corridor and down to her room. Worried at what the guards might say, Eryck felt somewhat relieved when two passing guards paid little attention. _Putting drunks to bed must not be all that uncommon_, he thought.

Second, Eryck carried Myrielle to her sleeping quarters. When he slid through the open door, he accidently knocked her head against the frame. He paused and watched her mumble something unintelligible before becoming still once again in his arms. "How drunk are you?" he murmured as he covered her with blankets, drawing the curtains before leaving.

When he lifted the handmaiden from the small sofa, she woke immediately, for she had not drunken herself into a coma like the other women. She sat on the sofa and listened to Eryck's explanation of events before thanking him for his due diligence. She then asked for an escort back to their shared servant quarters—just in case, as she delicately decreed.

After removing his ruined shirt, Eryck thought it best to wash off the lion stink and dried blood before crawling into his small bed. Shirtless, he slid under his blankets as the handmaiden's snores reverberated around the room, seemingly deepening with breath. With the initial shock of the first few traumatic days wearing off, the exhausted fool promptly slipped into a deep, needed slumber.

**...**

When Eryck awoke, he found that mid day had passed. He freshened up and donned his last clean shirt when the handmaiden awoke. Together, they found the sisters still sleeping off their hangovers, so the handmaiden and fool took the opportunity to visit the kitchen where they ordered a fine luncheon on behalf of the sisters, taking the meal to a secluded balcony to consume for themselves—figuring they had earned it.

When the sisters did venture from their quarters, neither was in the mood for an adventurous evening. Ordering a simple dinner from the kitchen, everyone settled in Myrielle's room for a quiet evening.

Myrielle complained of a painful lump on the side of her head as she produced a small vial of painkiller powder. After rubbing some on her gums, she offered the medicine to all in the room.

When Eryck accepted the vial, he held it up to the candle light. He then turned to Myrielle and asked, "My lady, do you have any poison in your travel bag?"

Pretending to be offended, she gasped unconvincingly. "Why would you think that?"

Eryck smiled politely before responding. "I just don't want to be accidently killed, my lady. You should label these vials."

"I know what's in every vial," said Myrielle, miffed. After a moment of thought, she exchanged a look with her sister and added, "If you must know, I have never _accidently _poisoned anyone. This I can assure you."

Cerenna reclined in her chair as she dabbed the tip of her finger with headache powder. "Eryck, I have been reliably informed that you were the one who returned us safely to our beds."

"Yes, my lady."

Eyeing the fool, Myrielle again rubbed her sore temple. "How do we know you didn't take advantage of us?"

Mentally exhausted—and feeling the effects of the medicine, Eryck said without thinking, "Does your ass hurt, my lady?" Immediately, Eryck's eyes widened as he straightened in his chair. "Please forgive me, my lady."

The three women stared at Eryck until they simultaneously smiled.

"The fool told a joke," commented Myrielle. "I didn't think you had it in you."

"Your medicine is too effective, my lady. I apologize again."

Smiling, Cerenna turned her gaze to the rising moon. "You can make it up to us by helping me with a little reconnaissance mission."

Having had his fill with Lannisters, Eryck's heart suddenly felt heavy. Failing to hide his worry, he nervously asked, "When, my lady?"

"Tonight. We need to find a body."

Eryck turned to handmaiden to receive a sympathetic look. Rubbing his face, he sighed, convinced that the sisters were determined to kill him.

**...**

Late that night, Eryck entered Cerenna's room where he received a hooded cloak similar to the one she had already donned. He gazed about the room to find Myrielle and handmaiden missing. "Isn't your sister joining us, my lady?"

"No. She's in her room, studying books from the castle library." Cerenna produced two candle lanterns form a cupboard and proceeded to light them.

Eryck began donning his cloak. "Are we visiting a graveyard or a crypt? Will there be digging involved?"

"No, and no."

"Good."

"We're heading for the keep."

_Of course,_ though Eryck, biting his lip.

"Don't fret. This will be easy. You won't have to do anything."

"Why am I here?"

"My sister is busy with her research, and I simply need a second set of eyes for safety's sake." Cerenna moved to a section of wall beside her unlit hearth. Pressing her hands against a small, square section of paneling, a crease appeared big enough for her fingers to grip. Pulling against the panel, a thick wood door revealed a dark passage.

Eryck peered into the darkness. "Hidden tunnels?"

"Yes. The castle is riddled with them. They just recently discovered a handful of them after my uncle, Lord Tywin, was murdered. Cersei had some of the tunnels destroyed, but she'd have to destroy the whole castle to find them all."

Eryck accepted a lantern from Cerenna and held it up to the tunnel entrance. "Aren't the tunnels common knowledge?"

"No." Cerenna gestured for the fool to enter the tunnel. "Go on. This leads to a wider tunnel where we can stand upright."

Hemming, Eryck hunched over and did as instructed, stopping in the larger connected tunnel just a few yards away. Hearing the door close, he watched the faint light of the lantern approach as Cerenna appear from the darkness.

She lifted her lantern towards the ceiling and pointed to scratch marks on a support beam. "This is code that Myrielle and I developed over the years as children. These marks keep us from becoming lost."

"How did you find these tunnels?"

"Once, masons discovered dead space behind a wall they were fixing; for reasons only known to them, they didn't think it worth scrutinizing. While they were away, Myrielle and I noticed the breeze flowing out from the open wall and went exploring. When we began finding hidden doors to rooms, we realized that we had discovered a vast network of secret tunnels. One time, we became so lost that it took us a full day to find our way back. This was when we started making navigational marks to guide us."

Eryck faithfully followed Cerenna down the tunnel, brushing at the numerous spider webs that seemed to miss his guide and find his face. "Did Ser Daven or Queen Cersei ever explore with you?"

"No. Daven was busy pretending to be a knight back at Casterly Rock, and Uncle Tywin was too busy whoring off Cersei in the hopes of making her a queen. Cersei had no time to play with us ugly ducklings."

"You two are the farthest thing from ugly ducklings." Eryck pulled up when Cerenna stopped to look at him. "Sorry, my lady."

"No. Thank you." Smiling, she next gestured into a side passage. "See the hole in the floor?"

Squinting, Eryck could make out a shadow in the floor. "Yes. Is it a trap?"

"No. It's a passage down. Sometimes there are handholds carved into the walls, sometimes you will find an old, dilapidated ladders. Myrielle and I once found the skeleton of someone who must have fallen down one of these holes. They broke both legs and eventually died where they fell. This is why we never travel alone through the tunnels." With a nonchalant shrug, Cerenna continued towards her destination.

"Didn't you ever share these passages with anyone?"

"No. We decided that this would be our secret: besides, it gave us something to do when our family visited King's Landing. I'm not sure why, but we eventually told Niena after our mother passed."

Hearing Cerenna's voice reverberating off the stone walls, he asked, "Shouldn't we be whispering?"

"Not in this part of the castle. Sound doesn't leak through the walls. Plus, all the secret doors are intentionally thick. The dying man with the broken legs must have screamed his head off, and no one heard him."

Eryck brushed away another spider web. "Or those who heard him thought it was a ghost."

"Perhaps," commented Cerenna with a grin.

After descending a few levels, Cerenna paused to investigate signs of recent traffic through the tunnels. "Cersei's men must have found this tunnel."

"Where does it lead?"

"To the dungeon's black cells. My cousin, Tyrion, is believed to have escape through this tunnel from those cells. Let's hope they didn't find the other."

"What other?" Eryck hesitantly followed Cerenna into a shadowy passage that seemed to swallow the candlelight. At the end, he discovered a large hole with carved foot holds in the wall to the level below. He followed her down and saw her lift a finger to her lips for silence. Approaching the inconspicuous wall, she removed a small square block of stone and peered through. After a short amount of time, she replaced the stone and said, "It's safe to proceed."

"What were you looking for?"

"A man named Qyburn. He used to be a maester."

"Use to be?"

"They caught him performing unethical experiments. Rumor has it that he has a new experiment. My drunken cousin last night confirmed it. That is why we are here."

As the candlelight danced across Cerenna's face, he could see the woman's excitement—the type that caused his pulse to quicken with worry. "And how did you come of the initial rumor?"

"Little birds. Birds will to sing to anyone who's willing to pay." Cerenna pushed on a wide stone that appeared to pivot on a large metal pin. The space created was just large enough for a body to squeeze through.

Upon entering the isolated room, the familiar feeling of dread tightened around Eryck's heart as he followed Cerenna into the subsequent darkness of the keep. Fearing far worse things than his ladyship's secrets, his nose was first to confirm his suspicions.

Turning a corner, they entered a dank room lit by oil lanterns. In the center, Cerenna stood by a table with her hand cupped over her nose. Before her, lay a mountain of a man covered by a bloodstained cloth, the inadequate size of which failed to cover the man's purple shaded limbs. From his extremities, various tubes stuck out from the skin, connected to glass containers hung from the ceiling, with other tubes exiting the flesh, empting into various clay pots sitting on the floor.

Pressing the hood from his cloak to his nose, Eryck carefully sidestepped around the table to investigate the horror before him. He leaned closer to inspect one of the tubes exiting a forearm when the limb flinched, startling the young man. "Shit! Is he still alive?"

"Yes and no," replied Cerenna, breathing through her mouth. Using both hands, she lifted the sheet to inspect the man's face when her mouth fell agape at what she found.

When the horror registered with Eryck, his body became numb. "That's not possible."

"Well, Qyburn found a way." Replacing the sheet over the man's head, Cerenna peeled back the sheet from the man's torso where she found a large putrefying chest wound. Cerenna tightly covered her nose and leant closer to inspect the rotting flesh. "Amazing, the healer found a way to stop the poison. The body should have rotted away until nothing remained but bones."

Eryck felt as if he would vomit when his knees began to shake. Desperately wanting to be elsewhere, Eryck took a staggered step back. "May I wait for you in the tunnel?"

"No." Cerenna shot Eryck a disapproving glance before continuing her inspection. "I need you in case I'm caught." The woman positioned her lantern closer to the wound. "This is unbelievable; the infection reached his heart, and yet it continues to beat."

Wiping at the clammy sweat on his brow, Eryck transferred himself to a box in a corner and sat down. "I'm glad the world has some use for me." Placing his head between his knees, the fool proceeded to take slow, calming breaths as he tried to come to terms. "What's keeping him alive? Magic?"

Tickled by the suggestion, the woman purposefully turned to Qyburn's workbench, which was cluttered with vials and basins. Each container held a various colored liquid that appeared luminescent as Cerenna held her lantern before them. "This man is good, but not that good. He's relying on medical science to create his monster. This creature will undoubtedly be strong once on his feet, but it will still be mortal. Any human brave enough could face it, but they will need much skill to kill it." Lifting a basin of green fluid up to the light, Cerenna watched as the fluid changed hues as she rotated the glass in a broad circle. "Now, had he used magic, the creature could only be killed by magic."

"Can you perform magic?" asked Eryck.

Setting down the basin, Cerenna smiled faintly as she lifted a red vial up to an oil lantern. "I'm learning." She returned the vial and moved down the bench to inspect various jars containing dried plants and flowers. Without pausing her search, she asked, "Do you approve of magic?"

"I've never seen magic." Eryck lifted his head and began to rub his neck. "My mother always said that magic was inherently evil."

With a raised brow, Cerenna turned to eye the young man. "Evil?"

"Yes. She said that any quick fix through magic was a coward's way out; only the weak minded would resort to magic to cheat their way through life's tribulations."

"Cheat? Tribulations?"

Eryck shrugged. "Magic will only result in misery and misfortune, she would say. From what I've read about magic, I tend to agree with her. Science will be mankind's future."

Cerenna's eyes drifted to the body on the table. "There's your science. Is that beneficial to mankind?"

Frowning, Eryck glanced briefly at the body before lowering his sorrowful gaze to the floor. "There are good aspects of science."

"Where? Science created a better bow so that men could kill from a greater range. Science created stronger steel to more easily cut off a man's head. Science invented the trebuchet to knock down castle walls."

Gnawing his lip, Eryck sat up and shyly countered, "But science created those magnificent castles and grand fortresses to protect the people."

"From war," retorted Cerenna, returning to her search. "As science grows, so will the efficiency of killing on the battlefield. You wait and see."

"What about the violin?" asked Eryck. "Nothing but good comes from the violin."

"Art created the violin."

"It's science."

"No," snapped Cerenna as her hands shuffled through a shelf of glass jars. "Violins are art, and art comes from magic."

With a furled brow, Eryck crossed his arms as the clammy sweat began to chill his body. "Art does not come from magic."

"Have you ever heard a true violin performance?"

"A couple times, at Lannisport festivals."

"How did the music make you feel?" asked Cerenna. "Did you feel anything that you could not explain?"

Eryck gazed at the floor, recalling those few special moments when he experience rare, exquisite music. "I felt relaxed. The music was calming."

"That's magic."

"If magic existed," said Eryck, waving his arm in the air, "we'd see it every day, all around us."

"Oh, but it is all around us at any given moment. You are just blind to it."

Slumping over, Eryck clasped his nervous hands together to stop himself from fidgeting. "That's what people tell me."

With an ecstatic gasp, the woman snatched a specific jar from the shelf. "This is it. This is what the Qyburn used. We thought the flower extinct."

Curious as to which flower, Eryck approached Cerenna as she opened the jar and remove a small flower from a small collection of flowering buds—fresh as if recently picked. To his surprise, he faintly detected the flower's sweet scent despite the room's deathly stench. "Is it an antidote to the poison?"

"No. It stops the poison, but cannot undo the damage." Cerenna sniffed the flower. "I'd bet anything that the healer is now looking for a way to mobilize his creature and make him presentable to the public."

Eryck turned towards the table and stared at the open chest wound. "If he wants to scare people, he should just leave him as is."

"No. He wants to show off his work. He wants his creation to be long lasting and subservient. I need to show this flower to Myrielle." Cerenna poured out a tiny handful of flowering buds from the jar and passed them to Eryck. "Here, put these in your pocket."

Eryck frowned as he gently dropped the florets into his breast pocket. "In case we are caught?"

"Of course." Smiling, Cerenna began returning everything, as they had found it. She next motioned Eryck to follow as she returned to the hidden door.

Desperate to get away from the stench, Eryck followed close behind, and once he pushed the heavy stone door closed, he asked, "What would you do if the queen sent me to the gallows?"

"I'd feel really bad for a couple of days, or at least, until I got home." As Cerenna turned away, she added a wink to her growing smile.

Although he knew that he would ultimately take the blame if caught, Eryck's smile returned.

After the pair climbed out of the lower levels of the keep, they swiftly travelled through the secret passages back to Cerenna's quarters. Once they removed their cloaks and freshened up in a hand basin, they headed for Myrielle's room.

Eryck halted in the corridor, clearing his throat to catch Cerenna's attention. When she turned, he said with a lowered voice, "I want to apologize for my behavior down in...um... I just want to say I'm sorry if I behaved badly. I'm not used to seeing things like that."

"No apology needed. I should have better prepared you. You did great."

"I didn't really do anything." Eryck frowned, lowering his head.

Cerenna lifted his sagging chin with her fingertip. "I needed you as backup."

"To blame."

Releasing his chin, she clasped her hands behind her back, smiling innocently. "You know I was teasing you about that. The passages are dangerous, even more in the dungeon. Had something happened, I'm sure you would have saved me."

"I would have tried."

"I know you would." Nodding over her shoulder, she took a step back. "Now, let's show my sister _our_ amazing discovery."

In her room, Myrielle snapped the flower from Eryck's hand. "Cerenna, where did you find this?"

"Downstairs in the Qyburn's experimental room. It's true, the knight is still alive."

"How many flowers did he have?" asked an astonished Myrielle as she continued to inspect the flower.

"Half a jar from what I could see. I didn't want to push my luck searching further."

Myrielle sniffed the vibrant appearing flower. "If I remember my studies, the flower can't undo the poison damage. It what state was the body?"

"Decomposing, mostly. The healer stopped the poison just in time to prevent circulatory decomposition. He may soon get him mobilized from what I saw."

Myrielle twisted the short flower stem between her fingers. "I can use this to modify the poison. Next time I'll..." As her words trailed off, her gaze turned to Eryck.

"My lady," asked the fool, "did you poison that man we found?"

"No." Myrielle suddenly appeared leery.

"Do you know who did?"

"Perhaps. Do you want to know?"

Eryck thought he did, but he had learned the hard way about Lannister secrets. Judging the stares from the two women, he placidly responded, "No, my lady. Secrets are not meant for me."

Myrielle smiled. "Clever man, you are."

Pulling the cork from a bottle of wine, Cerenna began to fill two glasses. "We have much to discuss."

Gnawing his lip, Eryck sighed heavily through his nose, fearing another arduous night with the sisters. He boldly asked, "May I retire for the night? I'm not feeling well."

"Sure," replied Cerenna. "Thank you again for watching my back."

Eryck forced a smile. "I'm glad that I could be of service, my lady." When he exited Myrielle's room, his smile quickly faded, for what he had seen that night would most certainly disrupt his sleep.

As he crawled into bed, he no longer wished to dream. The sights and smells of death now haunted him during the day. He wanted to think of something else; he wished to escape into a grand story, but his books seemed so far away.

author's note: Sorry for overreaching in this chapter. Reviewing my rough draft, this is the longest one. The rest should be much smoother. Stu


	8. The Rescue

**08 The Rescue**

After a night of restless sleep, Eryck climbed into the express carriage and took a seat opposite from the handmaiden—both eager to leave the Red Keep. Outside, the four horses whinnied and stomped their hoofs as if anticipating their race against the sun on their return to Casterly Rock. Inside, Eryck studied the sisters to find them in similar states of grogginess as the cold, damp morning depleted each of their goodwill.

Myrielle hastily tucked a blanket around her thighs. "Why the hell do we always have to leave so early in the morning?"

Eryck smiled, for he knew the answer. "Town growth is based on an average day's travel, my lady." Observing the confused looks he received, he clarified, "As trails became roads, the villages that became favorite stopping points at the end of a day's travel began to grow. If carriages were faster, we'd find the major villages farther apart on the map."

"How do you know this?" asked a perturbed Myrielle.

"I read it in the book, my lady. Villages with a harbor and those on major river thoroughfares also began to—"

"Shut up," snapped Myrielle. With a furled brow, she reached into her handbag for her vial of red liquid that would allow her to sleep through the harsh journey. She took a small sip and passed the potion to her sister.

After taking her sip, Cerenna offered the vial to the handmaiden, who declined. She then offered it to Eryck.

"No thank you, my lady." As Cerenna return the vial to Myrielle, Eryck asked the redheaded woman, "My lady, would you have something for a headache?"

Droopy eyed, Myrielle pulled out a small vial of headache powder and passed it the fool.

Eryck twisted the unlabeled vial in his fingers and wisely decided not to question the woman if she had passed him the correct medicine. He dabbed his finger with powder and rubbed it against his gums, grimacing from the bitter taste. Returning the medicine, he noticed how quickly the sisters were succumbing to the sleeping potion and wondered if he should have taken some. But, the last thing he wanted was to return to his nightmares.

With castle guard fore and aft, the trip progressed achingly as the express carriage rattled and bounced through the countryside. Almost immediately, Eryck began yawning incessantly as the monotony quickly took its toll. When the procession paused midday by a stream, Eryck relieved himself before returning to the carriage to find the handmaiden preparing two cold meals. They ate as the procession continued its journey, but said very little, for Eryck's experiences over the past week had not given him anything enthusiastic to reminisce about. If it were not for the music and art, he would have nothing to discuss.

As the sun lowered closer to the hills in the distance, Eryck watched a pair of mounted castle guards pass the carriage on either side. Looking back through the small window, he found only two knights remaining aft.

The coachman then called out to the passing horseman. "Hey, what's the hurry?"

"We're almost home," replied one of the men. "I'm not about to let the others have all the ale."

Sticking his head out, Eryck watched the two passing knights continue to pull away—the original fore guards absent from sight.

"Bastards," said the coachmen to the knight beside him. "I bet they will drink it all."

The knight spat off to the side. "Isn't today when the barman taps a fresh keg?"

"Bastards," called out the coachman again, loud enough for the two mounted knights to hear.

Eryck returned to his seat and pulled his blanket up to his chest. Settling in, he noticed that the handmaiden had awoken.

"Almost home?" she ask, sitting up stiffly.

"Yes. I think so."

"Good. My old body cannot handle the rigors of express carriages anymore."

"I don't think they have yet to miss a stone on the road," commented Eryck with a smile. He leant forward to stretch his back. Rubbing his neck, he thought, _one more day._ If he could survive tomorrow, he could return to his mundane life, most importantly his books. Nevertheless, his smile faded when the various events he had witnessed began to flash through his mind. With a worried look, he asked Niena in a low tone, "Are they really going to let me go? After all I've seen and heard, are they going to let me live?"

Niena gazed upon the two sisters as she contemplated the fool's question. After a brief pause, she inhaled deeply and replied, "I believe so. The sisters may be a lot of things, but they are honorable and true to their word, like their brother."

"Has my experience ever happen before?"

"No." The handmaiden reached over and pulled Cerenna's blanket up over her shoulder. "But there is always a first."

Eryck gazed upon the sisters as they slept. Before learning their secrets, he had always admired the women as models of grace and dignity, for Lannister women had always been divinity in his eyes.

Forever attracted to Myrielle, he admired her strong feminine voice, shiny red hair, and rosy cheeks—the last more likely an alcoholic blush.

Eryck had often ignored the blonde sister, but that had changed. He still saw the grace and refinement he so admired; more importantly, she was not the woman often depicted unfairly in fairy tales—she was not a helpless princess in tower in need of a gallant man. Cerenna's soft voice personified her tenderness as her astute eyes gave hint to her immense intelligence. She was brave, yet insanely dangerous. And despite having seen this woman remove a man's brain—not to mention her lack of aversion to blood, she was exactly what a princess should be. She was more than a princess; she was a queen who needed no king. _Are you seeking the throne? _he began to wonder.

The sound of a creaking tree quickly began to crackle when the coachmen franticly called out a falling tree. Eryck looked forward in time to see the canopy of the tree fall towards the road, crashing before the horses with a heavy thump.

When the horses abruptly stopped, Eryck and Myrielle crashed into their fellow passengers with the young women instinctively releasing panicked screams.

"Bandits!" shouted the coachman.

As Eryck assisted Myrielle back to her seat, he looked outside and discovered determined appearing men in tattered clothing emerging from the surrounding forest. Turning around, he found more bandits appearing from the shadows on the other side of the road.

The two coachmen, both skilled knights, jumped down from the carriage on opposite sides and drew their swords. Behind the carriage, the two knights on horseback positioned themselves nearby, swords at the ready.

Frenzied shouts erupted has the bandits attacked with worn short swords and rusted knives. The sisters screamed in horror as the sword blades loudly clashed on both sides of the carriage. Eryck watched one knights run his sword through the lead attacker. As the knight pulled his blade free, a second bandit attacked from behind with a short sword. The knight deflected the attack, elbowing the man in the face. His sword now free, he slashed off the bandit's sword hand when two more men lunged at the knight from behind, piercing the knight's neck with a long knife. The knight dropped to his knees and the two bandits began stabbing him repeatedly.

When a man screamed in pain behind the carriage, Eryck peered out the back window to see a bandit fall to the ground as one of the mounted knights raised his bloodied sword in the air. The knight slashed at a second approaching bandit, splattering a wide arc of blood against the carriage. The knight then charged his horse forward into bandits surrounding the remaining coachman.

At the edge of the road, the other mounted knight turned his horse in circles as he slashed at bandits, striking one man on the neck—nearly decapitating the bandit. The pause from the successful strike allowed a different bandit to lunge from the opposite side and knife the knight in the thigh. The knight reared back in pain, pulling too hard on the horse's reins. When the animal reared, the knight tumbled backward and landed hard on the ground. Before the knight could rise to his feet, two bandits were upon him with knives as the rider-less horse fled down the road.

Eryck turned inside the carriage and watched in horror as one bandit with a long sword swung hard at the back leg of the remaining mounted horse. The magnificent beast whinnied in pain before tumbling on its side, crushing its rider. The knight became pinned beneath his horse, his sword knocked from his hand. As he frantically searched for a weapon in the grass, the bandits swarmed him and his horse, both slaughtered by repetitive stabbings.

Wanting to run, Eryck turned to the other side of the carriage to see bandits already approaching the door. He turned to the opposite door to find the carriage surrounded. When a bandit tried to open the door, Eryck pulled on the windowsill until another man swung an axe at Eryck's fingers, causing the fool to fall backwards when he released his grip.

The bandits tore open the doors, and the women screamed as the dirty, bloodied hands reached for Eryck, pulling him out by his shoulders. Two bandits forcefully restrained the fool, pinning his arms behind his back as others dragged the women from the carriage.

As bandits secured the reins of the carriage horses, a broad shouldered bandit with a heavy beard climbed into the empty carriage and began searching for valuables. Outside, his cohorts cut free the exterior travel chests and smashed them to the ground, scouring over the contents.

The bearded bandit stuck his head out the carriage and surveyed the various contents scattered on the ground. He barked at the women, "Where's the gold?"

Myrielle reluctantly looked up at the man. "We're not travelling with gold."

The man jumped down from the carriage and grabbed Myrielle by the face. "Don't lie to me, bitch. Where is it?"

Cerenna tried to pull her arm free, only to have her head pulled back by her hair. "She's telling the truth. We are not travelling with gold. All we have is the jewelry on our persons. Take it."

The tallest of the bandits stepped forward and tore the necklace from Cerenna's neck. Looking briefly at the small jewels in his hand, he turned angrily to the other bandit and said, "I've lost men for this! You promised us a chest of gold."

The bearded man released Myrielle's face and snatched her broach from her neck. "It has to be here. I was reliably informed that Tywin Lannister's gold was secretly being transferred to Casterly Rock."

"We don't have any of our uncle's gold," said Myrielle. "Tear the carriage to cinders if you must. We are not traveling with anything of value."

The tall bandit with Cerenna's necklace tightened his fist about the jewels as he stepped closer to the bearded man. "You've cost me. And on top of this, there was not supposed to be anyone important riding in this coach. Ser Daven will hunt us down until his last dying breath. Lannister's always pay their debts; they never forget."

Frustrated to near panic, the bearded curled his fingers as if counting the numerous dead bodies before him. "Um...um...we can still ransom the women. Ser Daven will pay."

"They have seen our faces you idiot. They will be able to identify us. The Lannisters will send every soldier after us whether they pay or not."

The man grunted nervously as he ran his fingers through his beard. "We'll ambush them when they make the exchange. We'll kill everyone."

"Now you're just talking rot." With gritted teeth, the tall bandit turned and began kick the body of a dead knight with guttural rage.

"We promise not to identify you," pleaded Cerenna. "You have our word."

The tall bandit stepped away from the dead knight and slapped her. "Shut your lying mouth."

Eryck's bladder almost evacuated as his knees uncontrollably shook. Glancing at the handmaiden, he recognized the same terrified look in her face.

Two bandits began digging in Myrielle's handbag, producing a handful of medicinal vials. "What are these?" asked one.

Myrielle fearfully glared at the men. "The powdered one is a simple willow bark pain medicine. The red liquid is an opioid of the purest form. Quite valuable. Each vial contains five doses of medicine."

As the men smiled, one said, "Opium. The next best thing to gold." The man pulled off the topper and took a sip, passing it to his cohort who did the same.

"Idiots!" barked the tall bandit. "You don't just start sipping strange liquids in the middle of a heist."

"What heist?" asked the man holding Cerenna. "We might as well salvage what we can and get out of here." The man's eyes drift to Cerenna's neck. "I've always wanted to know if royal girls are as nice as they say."

"We're not royalty," retorted Cerenna. She turned her head and spat in the man's face.

The man spun her around and punched her in the stomach, dropping her to her knees.

A bandit with a thick, hideous scar stretching across his forehead stepped forward and gripped Cerenna by the hair. "I get dibs on this one."

"After me," said the man holding her.

Without a word, the man with the scar glared at other until the subordinate's eyes diverted away.

"Who are these two women?" asked one of the two men holding Eryck.

The handmaiden's jaw quivered as she spoke. "We are merely servants to Ser Daven."

The man holding Eryck then asked, "What do you, boy?"

"I'm no one. I'm just a jester."

"A jester?"

"Ya," commented Myrielle. "That means fool if multisyllable words are too complicated for you."

The man holding Myrielle gripped her red hair. "Shut up, bitch. The only thing I expect to hear from you is moaning."

Two additional men had gathered around Myrielle's bag in search of a sip of the opioid. As the second man finished his sip from the vial, the two prior bandits who had already sampled the liquid began to stagger on their feet. One dropped to his knees and said, "Hey, boss…," before falling face down on the ground, immediately followed by his partner.

The bearded man turned to Myrielle. "What was in the red vial?"

"Sleep aid," replied Myrielle. "They'll be out for the next eight hours."

"Bitch!" The tall bandit backhanded Myrielle with such force that her legs buckled under her.

"Can we have her?" asked one of the men retaining a hold on her arm.

"Sure," said the tall bandit. "We're going to hell for this anyway."

The bearded man rushed forward. "No! We need them untouched for ransom."

Without warning, the tall bandit ran his sword through the bearded man. "Fuck you and your ransom."

The bearded man dropped to his knees, blood immediately foaming at his mouth. When the tall bandit pulled out his sword, the bearded man's eyes rolled back as he crumpled forward, dead.

Everyone paused to take in the situation. As eyes darted suspiciously at one another, the men affiliated with the bearded bandit took off running into the woods.

Quivering with fear, Eryck watched as the second pair of men who had sampled Myrielle's medicine began to stagger. When one dropped to his knees, Eryck realized that only one man now restrained him, for the other had fled after the death of his leader. Eryck twisted free, elbowing his captor on the side of the head. Without looking back, Eryck fled into the forest.

The fool ran as fast as he could, tearing through branches and brush. He tripped on a fallen log and landed onto his stomach with outstretched hands. Scrambling to his feet, he turned to discover that the bandits were not pursuing him. He began surveying his surrounding for the best possible escape route when he heard Myrielle scream. Eryck stared in the direction the scream, paralyzed with fear

As shame washed over him, we continued to stand frozen, choking on his fear. Then he heard Cerenna scream. Instinctively, he stepped forward and began moving swiftly through the forest back towards the carriage. When Cerenna screamed a second time, Eryck sprung forward into a sprint. He burst from the forest at full speed, finding Cerenna forced over a piece of luggage as two men tore at her clothing. The bandit with the large scar was positioning himself behind her, loosening his britches, when Eryck slammed into him, tackling bandit against the side of the carriage.

Eryck tumbled back onto the ground, stunned by the extreme force of the collision. Quickly gathering his senses, he saw an axe lying beside him and reached for it as he scrambled to his feet. He swung the axe at one of the men restraining Cerenna, the weapon made sickening thump sound when it struck the man's skull. As the bandit fell to the ground, Eryck swung at the second bandit, but the man ducked out of the way before drawing his long knife.

"Behind you!" cried the handmaiden.

Eryck turned in time to jump back from a swinging long sword of a rushing bandit. The tanner lowered his shoulder into the bandit and let the man's momentum carry him onto his shoulders. With tanner strength, Eryck launched the man into the air towards another bandit, knocking both to the ground. Before the man could scramble to his feet, Eryck swung his axe with all his might, releasing a spray of blood from the man's neck.

The other remaining bandits released their captives and drew their weapons.

Eryck swung wildly, keeping the bandits at bay, but he soon found himself surrounded as the men waited for the opportune time to strike.

Myrielle scrambled over to one of the dead bandits and retrieved a knife. When she lunged for one of the men surrounding the fool, her bellowing attack unfortunately gave the speedy bandit ample warning.

Using his short sword, the bandit easily deflected the knife from her hand before punching her across the face, knocking the woman to the ground unconscious.

Wielding a long knife, another bandit lunged at the fool from behind, but Eryck—continuously circling—saw him out of the corner of his eye and shifted out of the way of the blade. Grabbing hold of the bandit, the two struggled against each other, twisting and turning, their weapons waving dangerously above their heads, giving pause to the other bandits.

The bandit struggling with Eryck found his footing and head butted the fool, sending shearing pain through the young man's nose into his brain. When Eryck staggered, the bandit tackled the fool, pinning him to the ground.

Stunned by the head butt and subsequent hard tackle, Eryck watched in horror as the enraged bandit raised his long knife to deliver the final deathblow when the ground began to shake.

Before the bandit could turn his head to investigate, the air erupted with his blood as a long sword sliced through his head. A charging horse then surged through the circle of men, knocking many of the bandits to the ground.

Trapped beneath the dead man, Eryck watched as the six returning knights on horseback quickly slaughtered the handful of remaining bandits. Once the last fleeing bandit was run down and killed, the knights formed a protective circle around the fallen women, dismounted, and immediately rushed to their aid.

Cerenna accepted the hand of one of the knights as she struggled to her feet. She instructed one knight to aid her handmaiden before she turned for Eryck. With the assistance of another knight, they rolled the dead bandit off the fool.

"Are you wounded?" she asked.

"No, my lady," replied Eryck, his body trembling. "Are you harmed?"

With welling eyes, she shook her head.

With the aid of a knight, Myrielle stood with her hand pressed against the side of her face. She pointed with her other hand at the four unconscious men who had sampled her medicine. "Those four are unconscious and unharmed. They sipped from my sleep aid thinking it was something else. They'll wake in about eight hours, at the earliest."

The lieutenant of the castle garrison, Ser Karsan Nayland, addressed his men. "Bind them. We'll take them back for a speedy trial at Casterly Rock. We'll hang their bodies, along with these dead, at set intervals along Goldroad. Let their rotting corpses will be a reminder to any bandit who enters the Westerlands."

Staggering to his feet, Eryck turned to the man who he had stopped from raping Cerenna. He then remembered that he had not stuck him with a weapon, only crushed him against the carriage. Eryck pointed at the crumpled body with pants bunched around the ankles. "That one was about to hurt Cerenna when I tackled him. He may simply be unconscious."

Ser Karsan approached the crumpled body lying next to the carriage and turned him over with his boot.

Upon closer inspection, they found the bandit with the large forehead scar still breathing, his fearful eyes shifting to those standing over him. The bandit tried to speak but could only gasp for air with short labored breaths.

"You must have broken his back or neck," said the lieutenant. The knight pierced the man's heart with his sword, the bandit's frightened gaze quickly glossing over.

Cerenna ran to her sister and began inspecting her face. "Are you hurt?"

"Just bruised," replied Myrielle. "Nothing feels broken."

Both sisters turned to the handmaiden.

"Niena?" inquired Cerenna with tears running down her face.

"I'm fine, child," replied the handmaiden, accepting the sisters into her arms.

Ser Karsan turned over the bearded bandit to confirm his death. "Looks as if we rescued you just in time."

Flushed with anger, Cerenna peeled away from her family and turned for the knight. Stepping over dead bodies, she quickly reached the knight and slapped the man with such force that the knight took a step back.

"My lady?"

"How dare you say that you rescued us!" With a pointed finger, Cerenna gestured to Eryck." _He _rescued us."

"The fool?" asked the lieutenant, appearing insulted.

"Yes, the fool. He charged the bandits and saved us from rape and death. He fought them in a frenzy, as brave as any knight."

The baffled lieutenant, along with his fellow knights, starred at fool.

Tucking his trembling hands under his arms, Eryck said, "I only killed three. The fallen knights fought most gallantly. They killed many of them."

The lieutenant sheathed his sword. "The fool may have bought us time."

Enraged, Myrielle joined her sister. "Bought you time? Where were you?"

"Just up ahead, my lady." Ser Karsan swallowed hard. "Your carriage fell behind."

"Fell behind?" Cerenna's lips snarled with anger. "We were exactly where we were supposed to be. Your responsibility is to stay by us."

"My lady, we may have been a bit zealous to reach home, and perhaps, we let our horses pull ahead slightly. When we realized the distance, we turned back at once. Bandits rarely attack this close to Lannisport. I apologize."

With a look of utter contempt, Myrielle inhaled deeply before saying, "Ser Karsan, we'll let our brother decide your fate, for I'm not the forgiving type."

The sisters turned their backs to the lieutenant and with the handmaiden, approached Eryck. Cerenna pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped at the blood below Eryck's nose. As she attended to his face, each of the women in turn said, "Thank you."


	9. The Day

**09 The Day**

Cerenna entered her sister's room, finding her brother, Ser Daven, sitting on the edge of the bed, holding Myrielle's hand. Cerenna passed a small red vial to her sister. "Niena accepted the sleep aid and is now resting."

Myrielle pulled the stopper from the vial. "I'm going to take some now if you don't mind, brother."

"Please, if you think you need it," said Ser Daven watching his sister take a tiny sip. "You need your rest."

When offered the vial, Cerenna politely declined. "Is the maester certain nothing is broken? You cheek is so swollen."

"He said at most there may be a facial crack, but he is certain that nothing was broken. He predicts a full recovery."

"Good to hear," commented Ser Daven as he patted his sister's hand. The man then stood and turned to Eryck standing quietly in the corner of the room. Shaking the lad's hand, Ser Daven said, "Thank you again, Mr. Leder."

"It was the knights that saved us, my lord."

"Stop being so modest. You saved the ladies from death and more. You bought them the time they needed. What did the maester say about you?"

"Mostly bruises, my lord." Eryck gently touched his face. "My nose may be broken, but the maester said it didn't need setting."

"Good." Ser Daven nodded towards Myrielle. "Did my sister share some of her pain medicine with you?"

"Yes, my lord."

"What do you have planned for tomorrow?" asked Ser Daven.

"My lord?" Eryck looked to the sisters and found them smiling peculiarly.

"I spoke to my sisters earlier, and we decided that your last day with us should be special. Therefore, for you act of bravery, you can choose how to spend your last day with us. You don't have to decide now, but the day is up to you."

"The library," mumbled Eryck.

"What?" asked Ser Daven, not sure of what he heard.

"Sorry, my lord." Eryck bit his lip and then asked more clearly, "May I visit the castle library tomorrow?"

"I don't see why not. Spend the entire day if you'd like."

For the first time in a week, Eryck smiled wholeheartedly."

Cerenna took a seat next to her sister. "I can show you the shelves and how to find things of interest; if you want."

Eryck nodded. "I would like that very much."

"We can take our meals in the library too," added Cerenna. "We'll make a regal day of it."

"Thank you, my lady."

"Well, that sounds like a plan." Ser Daven patted Eryck on the shoulder, which caused the young man to grimace. "I'll let all of you get some rest."

After Ser Daven's departure, the three survivors glimpsed at each other solemnly. Cerenna held out her hand, and Eryck walked over to accept it, taking Myrielle's in his other hand.

"Thank you again, Eryck," said Cerenna.

"Yes, thank you," added Myrielle.

"It was luck more than anything."

"Whatever it was," said Cerenna, squeezing Eryck's hand, "it saved us."

When the sisters released their grip, Eryck took a step back as he could not stop his yawn. "May I be excused, I'm exhausted to the point it's hard to stand."

"Of course," replied Cerenna.

Eryck turned to leave only to pause under the doorway. He studied his still trembling hands and began rubbing his thumbs against his fingers, imaging the sticky blood that he had long washed off. He turned back to face the sisters, the question evident in his eyes.

From her bed, Myrielle held up the red vial in offering. "Just a small sip. You'll probably feel it before you reach your room."

Eryck accepted the vial and took a small sip of the sweet liquid. Returning the vial to its creator, he said, "Thank you, my lady."

"Go now," said Cerenna. "I don't want to find you sleeping in the corridor."

Eryck nodded his appreciation and departed. Before he reached his quarters, he could feel the calming warmth of the medicine spread through his body. Closing his quarter's door behind him, Eryck quickly stripped down to his undergarments, wondering how Myrielle could still be awake after her dosage. Pulling the covers over his shoulder, he immediately slipped away into a very deep slumber.

**...**

Eryck awoke the next morning to blinding sunshine filling his room. Hiding under the covers, he felt far from rested, for many deformed and rotted corpses had taken the opportunity to visit him during his medicated sleep. When he rolled over, every muscle tormented him, as if each was personally angry with him for the prior day's events.

When he eventually peaked out from beneath his covers, he felt calm—the quiver in his hands surprisingly absent. Someone knocked on his door, and Eryck slowly rolled out of bed, groaning as he stood. Donning his pants and shirt, he opened his door to find the castle cook, Bessie.

She lifted a tray before his nose and said, "Your breakfast is ready. Cerenna asked me to deliver it."

"You didn't have to do that. I could have eaten at the servant's table."

"Nonsense," Bessie scooted by the fool and set the tray on a small stool next to Eryck's bed. "Besides, were quite busy in the kitchen preparing for your feast tonight."

"Isn't the feast to be a simple affair?"

"Oh no. Ser Daven ordered the works. He almost lost his sisters yesterday. When he has something to celebrate, he celebrates the event properly."

"I don't want a fuss over me. They should honor the four knights that died protecting us."

Bessie paused at the door. "Don't worry; they will most certainly honor them. Cerenna also told me to tell you that you can wash up after you finish lunch. They are preparing a hot bath for you. It should be ready soon."

"A hot bath?"

"Aye. Enjoy this day laddie. Days like this don't come often."

**...**

After his peaceful breakfast, Eryck travelled to the servant's washroom to find a hot bath and a clean set of servant's clothes waiting for him.

He soaked his sore muscles and reflected over the past week. After all the insanity, the hot bath made his experiences feel like a twisted dream. Not since his childhood, when his mother would on occasion heat a small amount of water, had he experienced this pleasure. And not since his mother's death did he feel this hopeless.

Lost in memories, he did not leave the tub until his fingers pruned. He dressed and proceeded up the stairs in search of the handmaiden in her room. Eryck knocked on the door and entered when she invited him inside. Finding the handmaiden up and about, reading comfortably at a small table beside her solitary window, the fool smiled with relief. "How are feeling, Niena?"

Niena closed her book and returned his smile. "Good, thanks to you."

Eryck's smile faded as he tried to shrug off the compliment.

"What's wrong?"

"I didn't really save anyone. I wish they'd stop mentioning it."

"Nonsense. You're the reason we're here today."

"The knights saved us," said Eryck, avoiding eye contact.

"Yes, but the surviving knights weren't where they were supposed to be," countered the handmaiden. "Those knights are lucky that Ser Daven has spared them from any harsh punishment. No other Lannister would be that lenient. Those knights owe their lives to you too. Had either of his sisters been subsequently hurt, those men would be hanging outside the castle gates right now."

Eryck unsuccessfully tried to smile.

"If you were my son, I would say your suffering is much more than physical. And from what I've learned about you over the past week, I'd say that the bandits you were forced to kill have scared you the most."

With deep breaths, Eryck rubbed away the welling moisture from his eyes. "Yes. You know that when I find a spider inside the tannery, I..."

"You release it outside," said Niena, finishing the young man's sentence.

Eryck nodded.

"A true respect for life is an honorable trait. You had no choice; you did the right thing. Now, you will just have to learn how to accept the compliments, no matter how awkward they feel. Be forewarned, you will receive plenty of praises at tonight's feast."

Eryck stared out the window, hoping for his emotions to lessen. "Why can't we have a quiet dinner instead? Can I ask Ser Devon for a smaller affair?"

With friendly wag of her finger, the handmaiden eyed him with a mother's grin. "Don't even think of denying the people their feast; any excuse for a celebration is a valid one. People need their fun in these dark times."

"The last feast is still fresh in my mind," said Eryck. "The one after the tourney."

"If you are thinking of Cerenna, you need not worry. She spaces her _experiments_ many weeks apart. Now come. I promised her that I'd escort you to the library when you were ready."

When Eryck stepped from the handmaiden's room, he offered Niena his arm in escort.

The handmaiden closed the door and accepted his arm, pointing the young man in the direction to the library. Descending one floor, the pair neared the library when they met the lieutenant of the castle guard—a man looking quite perturbed. When they passed, Ser Karsan's shoulder knocked the fool into the wall.

Eryck rubbed his shoulder, knowing the collision was intentional. Despite this, young tanner said, "My apologies, Ser Karsan."

Giving no response, the lieutenant simply glared at the fool.

Wanting to be elsewhere, Eryck began turning away when the knight laid a heavy hand on the lad's shoulder.

"May I help you?" Tired of the man's glaring, Eryck forcefully pulled his shoulder free.

When the knight reached again for Eryck's shoulder, the handmaiden slid herself between the two men. "Have we forgotten our place, gentleman? I highly doubt Ser Daven would approve of this."

Ser Karsan's face reddened as his cold stare shifted to the handmaiden. With a simple grunt, he turned away, storming off with a heavy step.

"He hates me," said Eryck as he rubbed his shoulder.

"He's angry at himself," said the handmaiden, retaking Eryck's arm. "He has been relegated to more routine tasks. He's lucky not to be punished further. He'll calm down in due time."

Eryck offered his arm once again and followed the handmaiden's lead towards the library. "I can't wait to return to my boring life. I'll never complain about boredom again."

The handmaiden smiled. "So say the youth."

Reaching the final corridor, the handmaiden led Eryck into a long slender room lined on one side by tall stained glass windows.

Eryck's mouth fell agape when his eyes beheld the shelves of books. Center in the room, a large wooden table sat empty except for a pair of unlit oil lamps. He quickly formulated in his mind that even if he had a year to himself in this library, he would not make a dent in the vast number of books.

The handmaiden released Eryck's arm. "I'll inform Cerenna that you are in the library. She said that you are free to peruse the books."

Eryck stared up at the shelves in awe. "Where do I begin?"

"Close your eyes and pick one. Her ladyship will be here shortly."

Eryck did not take notice of the handmaiden's departure. Stepping to the shelves, he angled his head to the side and began reading the spines that had been titled. Within seconds, Eryck found himself lost in a book that described the northern lands, inlayed with detailed maps that unfolded into several pages across the wooden table.

Studying one of the maps, Eryck looked up at the sound of heavy footsteps and found the captain of the castle garrison approaching, the man's brow knitted with concern. Eryck straightened. "Ser Lavin?"

"Mr. Leder, I was wondering if we could have a word?"

"How may I be of help?" Eryck's intuition told him to be careful. "I've already told you everything about what happened during the attack on the carriage."

The captain slowed as he approached the table. "It has nothing to do with that. Ser Jagger has gone missing. Could you tell me when you last saw him?"

"At the tourney feast. He was sitting at Ser Daven's table."

"Did you see him after that?"

"No," lied Eryck. The fool wanted to suggest a false rumor that the knight had gone traveling without telling anyone, that perhaps he became a sellsword for an army in the north. However, he wisely said nothing since the captain's stare revealed his own suspicion. Eryck cleared his throat. "The last actual contact I had with Ser Jagger was with his fist when he knocked me out on the tourney field."

"Yes, I remember that fondly." The caption briefly glanced at the book Eryck had been studying. "Did you feel any resentment for that?"

"No, captain. I opened my big mouth—like a fool—and got what I deserved. I was actually grateful towards Ser Jagger for not breaking any of my bones, for he must have had to restrain himself."

The captain again glanced at the book. "Rumor has it that you are literate."

"Yes, sir." Eryck began folding up the map. "I was taught the basics and quickly picked up the rest on my own. I was told that I have a knack for learning."

"I see," said the captain. "Does this knack include hand to hand combat?"

Eryck paused at knight's unsubtle accusation. Swallowing, he replied, "I still don't know anything about combat. I simply tackled one of the bandits when he was about to hurt Cerenna. I grabbed an axe and started swinging out of desperation. Do you think me a spy or something? I'm no one."

"No, I don't believe you a spy. However, unexplained events keep occurring at Casterly Rock, more than usual. I've learned over time that things in this castle are often not what they appear to be, including people."

"I'm just a tanner who became a fool for a week, nothing more."

The captain stepped closer. "You have my attention, Mr. Leder."

Cerenna swept into the room, wearing a flowing crimson dress and a smile. She slowed upon finding the knight. "Captain Steador, what brings you to the library?"

"I apologize for any inconvenience, my lady. I'm still investigating Ser Jagger's disappearance."

"Did you expect to find him here, or do you think the fool has something to do with it?"

"No, my lady. I'm simply inquiring with everyone who had contact with Ser Jagger on the last day we saw him."

"Well, he sat at my table. Do you suspect me?"

"No, my lady."

Cerenna clasped her hands together, grinning in a manner that Eryck thought mischievous. "Perhaps Ser Jagger went seeking glory. Winning tournaments has a habit of stroking men's ego. Maybe he went north in search of something more exciting. He wouldn't be the first; now would he Captain?"

"No, my lady. He would not be for first to turn sellsword. But I believe he would have let someone know his intentions."

Cerenna glanced at Eryck with a knowing smile. Turning back to the Captain, she said, "Would you tell anyone if you were about to betray the Lannisters and turn sellsword?"

The captain thought over the question for a moment and replied, "No, I would not."

"There we go." Cerenna began walking around the table. "I'm sure we'll hear from him eventually, hopefully not on the battlefield. If you would please excuse us, Mr. Leder and I have some work to do here in the library."

"Very good, my lady." With a parting glance directed towards fool, the knight swiftly left the library, closing the door behind him.

"He has it out for me," said Eryck, quickly adding "my lady" to the end of his words.

Glancing at the closed door, Cerenna retained her smile. "I wouldn't worry. He's just doing his job."

"The lieutenant bumped into my shoulder when Niena was escorting me here. I seem to have a habit of rubbing people the wrong way."

"Not me." Cerenna lifted Eryck's book from the table and gleamed the cover. Gently setting the text down, she asked, "So, where do you want to begin?"

"I have no idea." Eryck turned to look at the endless stacks of shelves that rose to the high ceiling beyond reach. Intermixed within the shelves, Eryck recognized the freshly rebound books repaired by his bookbinding friend, the new leather spines sticking out like dandelions. Eryck stepped forward to read the title of one of the rebound books but could not recall if he had secretly read the contents.

Wanting to laugh, he turned around to address Cerenna. "I have no idea, my lady. Never in my life, did I imagine seeing this many books; not to mention, seeing this many at one time."

"Well, what interests you?" asked Cerenna.

"Everything."

Cerenna gazed upon her fool like an enthusiastic teacher. "Well, we can start over here. I've been organizing the books for the past year, and as you will see, I'm only partially done. You can help organize for a while, and when a book catches your eye, you dive into it."

For several minutes, Eryck assisted Cerenna when an old text of ancient history pulled him away. After an hour, he returned to discuss the parts he perused. Later, when he again was assisting his ladyship with her organization, he unexpectedly became interested in a book created by the wife of a pagan priest, a book filled with detailed drawings and descriptions of butterflies common throughout Westeros.

A meal consisting of cured meats, long loaves of bread, and cheese arrived, accompanied by a tall bottle of wine. As they ate, the two talked about books, poems, and everything else magically contained on the Lannister shelves, enchanting worlds all within simple reach.

Tearing off a large chunk of bread, Eryck asked, "My lady, is the library in Queen Cersei's castle bigger than this?"

"Much. There are books in there in languages long forgotten. Some of the books are so old, that you dare not touch them with your skin."

"Are they going to protect them...restore them?"

Sipping her wine, Cerenna nodded as she swallowed. "They have copyists working full time. I'm afraid however, that this will not be enough. It costs a lot to keep that many books from turning into dust."

Eryck looked to the shelves. "Sadly, my copyist skills are dreadful."

"You've tried copying the books we've sent for rebinding?"

"Not in my shack in the woods," replied Eryck with a faint shrug. "Ayrn Foryst, the book binder, let me try reproducing something in his shoppe one day. I spent a full afternoon trying the reproduce the lettering and spacing of an ancient text, until it was well dark. Sadly, I could not even complete a single page. And what I had copied, looked nothing like the original. I can't imagine the skill it takes to be an efficient copyist."

Cerenna turned a book on the table so that the spine became visible—the color and texture of the leather indicating recent rebinding. "Did you make this leather?"

"Probably." Eryck gazed upon the book. "I sort through the goatskins to make sure the binder gets the best stock. I even handle the skins through each step of the tanning process to make sure they meet the binder's standards."

"Then you have a huge part to play in all these books. You do fine work. Look at the shelves; the newly bound books stick out on the shelves like stars in the universe."

"Thank you, my lady, but I'd trade everything to be a copyist."

Cerenna smiled. "So you could read more."

"Yes," replied Eryck with a sheepish smile.

Cerenna chewed on a piece of cheese until an idea sprung into her head. "Tell you what; I'll start sending more interesting books for rebinding. Considering the lengthy time it takes to transport the books," said Cerenna with a wink, "you will be able to read more books to your liking. I will fetch some red thread that we will cut into short strips. For the rest of the afternoon, I want you to insert a thread into every book that interests you. That way, I can randomly pick these to go for rebinding. Does that sound like a plan?"

Finding it difficult to hide his glee, Eryck said with a raspy voice, "Yes, my lady."

"Good. And make sure to eat up. I don't want any of this food to go to waste."

Eryck spent the remaining light of the day in a whimsical state. As time evaporated, Eryck kept looking at a giant clock at the end of the room as he hurriedly inserted threads into numerous books, making sure that his ladyship would be able to see each strand. To his detriment, he occasionally stumbled across a book containing beautiful illustrations—drawings that varied from grand sailing ships to foreign trees in faraway places—and would curse himself for the wasted time.

When the sun began to sink below the horizon, condemning the library to dim oil lamps, Eryck began to reflect upon the afternoon, a day he immediately judged to be the greatest day in his life. If he were to define magic, this day was it.

But if he had learn anything over the past week, he knew that the days were not complete inside the castle walls until the bell tolled midnight when, fates willing, he would simply be allowed to retire to bed. Pensively, Eryck exited the library to prepare for the grand feast that awaited him. He sought inner strength, for he still had to play the fool for a few more hours.

**...**

During the moment of silence for the fallen knights, Eryck stood with head bowed as visions of the bloodshed played fresh in his mind. The quivering had returned to his hands, the scars from the attack tormenting his every thought. Though he had not lingered at the scene of the attack, he could still see the faces of the men he had killed with exquisite detail. He never imagined taking a life; moreover, he never thought the Warden of the West would celebrate the brutal act at feast in his honor.

Ser Daven raised his cup. "Let us end this moment of silence for our fallen brethren, swearing to never forget these four souls who served their kingdom and House Lannister with the utmost honor, men who gave their lives in defense of the innocent. I salute you brothers."

In unison, the room dignitaries and knights raised their cups, hailing their salutes.

"Now raise your cups," continued Ser Daven, "and join me as we salute Eryck Leder for defending my sisters and their handmaiden from certain torment. For braving insurmountable odds and certain death, I bestow to this man the title of Honorary Fool of House Lannister! Hail Eryck Leder!"

Eryck nervously bowed to Ser Daven and then turned to face the room. When the room hailed his name, a nervous sweat broke out across his forehead as beads of perspiration ran down his back.

When someone in the crowd called out, "Beware of the fool!" the room echoed the call and broke out into joyous laughter.

As servants began delivering the main course, a honey-glazed ham was set before Eryck. With the distraction of food, he humbly returned to his seat. Free to enjoy this last night of servitude as an honored guest, Eryck finally allowed himself to relax and began gorging himself with food.

With Cerenna at his side, Eryck should have felt ecstatic, but he glanced out at the crowd, finding two sets of skeptical eyes that did not share the same sentiment as everyone else. The fool knew well enough that the captain and lieutenant cared little that tanner would soon return to his mundane life. Eryck understood that these two spited knights blamed him for their misfortunes. Worse yet, he feared that these two men would not stop hating him until their personal vendettas were quenched.


	10. The Jaded Knight

**10 The Jaded Knight**

"Are you awake?"

Rolling over, Eryck felt someone shake his shoulder. He opened his eyes slowly to find the handmaiden. He sat up and began rubbing his eyes. "Is it time to go?"

"It's time for breakfast," replied Niena.

"Ah, good." Eryck gazed out his window at the first hint of light. "It's a long walk to the tannery."

"You won't be walking back. Ser Daven has informed me that you will be riding back with him."

"In a carriage?"

"On horseback."

"Um," said Eryck, perplexed, "I don't know how to ride a horse."

"This is why I'm waking you early. Ser Daven instructed me to wake you early for basic riding lessons."

Eryck again rubbed his weary eyes. "Do I have to? I can walk alongside him."

The handmaiden took a step back from his bed. "Shall I tell Ser Daven that you refused his orders?"

"No." Eryck crawled to his feet. "No. I just thought that I'd wake this morning and walk out through the servant's gate."

"You didn't think it would be that simple; did you?"

Realizing his naiveté, Eryck frowned, subtlety shaking his head. "No. Nothing is ever simple in this place."

After a hearty breakfast, Eryck made his way to the stables where he found a stable boy preparing two horses with saddles. Eryck looked into the eyes of one of the beasts and suddenly felt very small. With growing trepidation, he began to feel sick about climbing onto the back of one of these giant creatures. He turned to the stable boy. "Are you going to teach me how to ride?"

"No," replied the lad. "I believe the stable master will be teaching you."

"No; it will be I," said Myrielle, stepping into view.

Eryck gawked at the woman dressed in her custom riding attire. "My lady?"

"Last night, when my brother mentioned that he wanted to ride back with you to the tannery on horseback, skipping the carriage, I said that I would teach you how to ride. With my sister showing you the library, I figured this would be my repayment for saving my life."

"I didn't save any—"

"Oh do shut up. And stop playing the fool. You're not any good at it."

Eryck bit his lip as he bowed his head.

After a couple calming breaths, Myrielle said, "You're a good man. That is what I'm trying to say."

Lifting his head, he found a friendly face looking back at him. "Lannisters always pay their debts, so let me do this."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you, my lady."

Myrielle noticed the stable boy nervously looking back towards the stables where her horse resided. She pointed to one of the already prepared horses. "No need, I'll ride that one."

"Does my ladyship require her saddle?" asked the stable boy.

"No. I'll use the one you have prepared." She turned to Eryck. "I don't expect that this will take long. Mr. Leder is a quick learner."

"Yes, m'lady." The stable boy then escorted the two horses through stable gate where he passed the reins to Myrielle and Eryck.

"Thank you," said Myrielle. "You may return to your work."

With a simple bow, the lad returned to the stables.

Petting the forehead of her horse, Myrielle gazed fondly into the creature's eyes. "Do you know why you'll be a quick learner?"

"No, my lady," replied Eryck, holding onto the reins as if holding a venomous snake.

"Your humility. Not only does it make for a good fool, but it also makes for a good student. Now, look into your horse's eyes. You don't need to be afraid, just let the beastie know that you respect and trust him."

"What do I say?"

"Nothing. The horse will know just by your shared look."

Eryck delicately stepped forward to look into the creature's eyes. The horse slowly raised and lowered his head as if he too wanted to become acquainted.

"Stroke his nose." Seeing the fool hesitate, Myrielle smiled as her gaze returned to her horse. "Who scares you more: the horse or the queen?"

"Definitely the queen." Chuckling at his confession, Eryck reached up and stroked the animal's nose.

After a couple minutes, Myrielle repositioned the reins in her hand. Now, we will walk alongside our horses for a short while. We will let them continue to get use to our scents and to the sounds of our voices."

Eryck followed his ladyship's motions and was pleasantly surprised to find his horse moving forward with the gentle tug of the reins. "Who taught you to ride, my lady?"

"My cousin, Jamie," replied Myrielle. "My brother doesn't think ladies should ride, but my sister and I often ignore his complaints. Jamie happily taught us what we needed to know.

Reaching the edge of the small riding grounds, the pair turned their horses about before Myrielle stepped in front of her horse, instructing Eryck to do the same.

Stroking the creature's nose, she said, "Rule one is simple: never walk behind a horse, for one can never predict when the beastie will kick. Rule two: accept that you are not in charge. Some say the opposite, but if rider and horse begin to fight, the horse always wins. True horsemanship allows you to put your faith in the animal. The horse, once trained for riders, will know what is expected of it. If you want a safe ride, you let the horse take some control. As a casual rider, you will never need to force the reins. You use the reins to indicate your intentions, not steer—like they do when riding into battle. You will get better results if you learn to communicate with your horse."

"My lady, as long as he doesn't make me his mare, this horse can do whatever he wants."

"Did I hint earlier that you are a terrible fool?"

"Yes, my lady. You were as subtle as ever."

"Good. We will now mount. Do not pull on the reins and do not panic if your horse shifts his feet while you pull yourself up. You have to put your trust in the animal as soon as you put your foot in the stirrup." In one swift motion, Myrielle mounted her horse, swinging her leg over with ease.

Eryck turned to his horse and tried to copy Myrielle's movements. Not as graceful, he pulled himself up onto the horse as the animal shifted to the side with a couple small steps. Once in the saddle, Eryck sat motionless, hunched forward, afraid to move.

"Don't tense up. These horses have been well trained. Trust the animal."

"I'm trying."

Smiling at her student, Myrielle cupped her hands over the front of her saddle. "We'll just sit here for a while and let you adjust to the view."

"Thank you, my lady." Eryck looked down at the ground. "Have you ever fallen off?"

"A couple times. I was lucky and escaped my falls without major injuries. This is why we are in a field and not on the road." Myrielle began stroking the neck of her horse. "Which brings us to rule three: never ever, bring a horse to gallop unless you are a knight in training...or have a death wish. I can guarantee you that you will find yourself on the ground if you do."

"I have no interest in making my horse run, my lady. The slower the better."

"Good. Let's begin, shall we."

Within an hour, Eryck had mastered the basics. Myrielle made sure Eryck could mount and dismount his horse without causing worry to the animal, and by the end of the training session, Eryck could even feed carrots to the beast without fear of losing his fingers.

"Looks as if you made a friend," commented Myrielle from atop her horse.

From the ground, Eryck rubbed his horse's nose as it chewed. "I suppose I have, my lady. I wish befriending knights was this easy."

"What do you mean?"

"The captain of the castle garrison came to speak to me in the library before Cerenna's arrival. I get the suspicion that he blames me for Ser Jagger's disappearance."

"Ah yes. Cerenna mentioned that to me last night."

"The lieutenant, Ser Karsan, also hates me. He seems to be blaming me for his troubles."

Myrielle hemmed as she ran her fingers through the horse's mane. "Men are so easily jaded and vengeful. I wouldn't worry; they eventually stop sulking over time."

"Are you saying that women don't become jaded and vengeful, my lady?" With the same adjusted to his horse, Eryck felt a new level of comfort in the presence of the redheaded sister. He met her gaze and let himself smile.

Through pursed lips, Myrielle returned his smile. "We're just better at hiding it."

"Making you more dangerous."

Myrielle shrugged. "Did you know that my brother had Ser Karsan demoted for straying too far in front of the carriage?"

"He's no longer a lieutenant?"

"Correct. He was put last in garrison rankings." With narrowing eyes, Myrielle's mouth twisted. "If it were me, I would have executed him for his incompetence."

"Ser Karsan has been demoted?" Feeling his throat tighten, Eryck swallowed. "He's going to hate me even more."

"Just keep a low profile." Shifting her eyes to Casterly Rock, Myrielle silently stared at the grand castle, lost in thought, when she said, "We better start heading back. My brother should be ready soon."

"Yes, my lady." With his newfound confidence, Eryck mounted his horse and began to follow his ladyship.

When the pair entered the courtyard, Ser Daven stood beside his horse. He looked up at the two and smiled. "Perfect timing, my dear sister. I see that you've turned Mr. Leder into a competent rider."

Myrielle slid off her horse, passing her reins to the stable boy. "Wouldn't be the first man that I've taught to ride."

Sighing, Ser Daven shook his head as snickering broke out amongst his guards. "And how many of those have you broken, sister?"

Unfazed by the men's chortles, Myrielle playfully replied, "None who didn't want to be." She stepped towards the main door, calling back, "Don't leave just yet, I need to fetch something."

Eryck's horse began to shift to the side. Remembering his training, he let the animal simply reposition himself. When the animal became still, Eryck sighed, looking up to find Ser Daven watching. "My lord?"

"You are a quick learner. What would you say to becoming a permanent servant at Casterly Rock?"

Without hesitating, Eryck replied, "I would have to respectfully decline, my lord." Eager to go home, he gently stroked the neck of the animal that would take him there. "I now believe that I was meant to be a tanner. But, I will forever be in your debt for allowing me the opportunity to serve you."

"Very well, the world also needs good tanners, but if the man who saved the lives of my sisters ever changes his mind…you only need to use those literary skills of yours and pen me a simple note."

"Thank you, my lord." Not having thought about the process of tanning for a week, Eryck glanced down at his saddle. The sound of the creaking leather and its texture reminded him of the lengthy process of transforming the animal's skins. It also reminded him of the unpleasantness.

Emerging from the castle, Myrielle and Cerenna approached the team, their handmaiden in tow. Both sisters smiled fondly at Eryck as they neared. When Niena joined them, she could be seen carrying a burlap sack with the drawstring slung over her shoulder.

Myrielle accepted the sack from Niena and passed it up to Eryck. "We put together a little parting gift for you."

When Eryck looked into the sack, his eyes widened. "This is too much."

Having just mounted his horse, Ser Daven scooted the animal alongside Eryck. "What have my sisters given you?"

Eryck first pulled out a book, one that he had inserted a red string between the pages. Eryck read aloud the title, "The history of magic."

Ser Daven turned to Cerenna with an inquisitive look.

"Our library possesses two copies, brother. I figure it's a good book for keeping his reading skills sharp."

A smile came to Ser Daven. "Right you are, Cerenna. I insist that you keep the book, Mr. Leder."

"Thank you, my lord, my lady." Eryck reinserted the book and then pulled out a bottle of wine.

Taking the bottle from Eryck, Ser Daven inspected the label and then turned to Myrielle. "This is your favorite."

"He deserves it, brother."

Ser Daven passed the bottle back to Eryck. "You must have made quite the impression to part Myrielle from one of her favorite bottles."

"I'm not really a wind drinker, but I'll save it for a special occasion. Thank you, my lady." Reinserting the wine, Eryck announced the last item without removing it from the sack, "The last item is a loaf of bread, my lord. It's still warm."

Feeling the morning chill, Cerenna crossed her arms. "Bessie wanted you to have it."

"Tell her thank you for me, my lady."

"I will."

Slinging the drawstring over his shoulder, the fool gazed upon the sisters with mixed emotions. His experience had been stressful, terrifying at times, but he still felt as if he had made friends. However, he could not wait to return to his shack in the woods, to bury himself under warm animal skins and be unburdened from Lannister secrets.

"Right," said Ser Daven. "Let us return Mr. Leder. I've got a long day's journey ahead."

Managing to get his horse moving, Eryck fell in line with the horse procession as they passed through the castle gate. Once free of the castle, the line of horses broke into pairs of riders as the knights took up positions before and aft of Ser Daven.

Eryck happily sat atop his horse, for animal seemed to know what to do. Eventually, the fool took notice of the larger number of knights guarding his lordship. Counting the detail of guards, Eryck found the stable boy at the end of the procession, riding a smaller horse. This is when he also discovered something out of the ordinary. The former lieutenant now rode in the rear, his narrowed eyes locked on Eryck.

"Mr. Leder."

Eryck turned forward. "Yes, my lord."

"Come along side me." Ser Daven waved his arm forward, signaling Eryck to move up.

Though he wanted his horse to scoot forward, Eryck remained behind, his horse seemingly ignoring his commands.

As the knights chuckled at the fool and his flailing attempts to scoot his horse forward, Ser Daven joined in with his own laughter, slowing his horse until he was alongside Eryck.

"Sorry, my lord." Eryck relaxed his arms. "I'm afraid of pushing my horse into a gallop."

"Don't trouble yourself, Mr. Leder. It takes a lot more than that to make a horse gallop, so you need not worry."

"Yes, my lord."

Ser Daven smiled at the fool fidgeting in his saddle. "Back at the castle, what did you mean when you said 'meant to be a tanner'?"

Eryck swallowed. "Um...I'm more comfortable with that work, my lord. As your servant, I never knew what to expect. I don't like surprises."

"I see. Did my sisters get into any trouble over the past week when I was not looking? Were there any _surprises_?"

"Only when the bandits attacked, my lord."

"I see." Ser Daven turned his gaze forward. "I'm curious about my sisters' activities when I'm not around; there is nothing more dangerous than an idle mind. Concerning my sisters, did you witness anything that I should be concerned about? Anything that gave you worry?"

Eryck visualized the dead knight with the missing skullcap on the table. He remembered the sound the body made when it landed at the bottom of the dark ravine. He could still smell the monstrous body somehow kept alive in the queen's dungeon. He could almost recite the subsequent talk about poisons and drugs.

Eryck turned to Ser Daven and said, "Myrielle drinks a lot of wine, my lord."

"Yes. So does Cerenna. I think we all know that."

"Um…when visiting the Red Keep, the queen frightened me terribly."

Ser Daven guffawed. "Don't tell anyone; but the queen frightens me too." The man's smile slowly began to fade. "My sisters and I have always been close, but not as close as they are with one another. I just wanted to know that I need not worry about them?"

"My lord, your sisters are astonishing. I wish I had sisters that enjoyed science and books as yours do."

"Science? Like alchemy?"

Despite the cool morning breeze, Eryck suddenly felt warm. "My Lord, they are both curious about how things work: what makes one wine better than another, what is the best cure for a headache. They want to know what makes a person's heart beat faster, why a person behaves the way they do. Your sisters are thinkers."

"What about politics? Did they ever pine about not being in line for the throne or who they should marry?"

"No, my lord. They have never discussed politics or marriage."

"That's a relief. Talking politics these days is much more dangerous than any bandit, Mr. Leder." Stroking his long beard, Ser Daven rode his horse in contemplation. He sighed and said, "They should be married off soon. Our late uncle, Lord Tywin, was saving those two in case they were needed for a beneficial marriage arrangement. 'Hens for the foxes,' he would say. I guess it's now for the queen to decide."

_More like foxes for the hens_, thought Eryck. "They never mentioned betrothal when they met with the queen, my lord."

"What did they discuss with the queen?"

"They talked about...girl stuff." Eryck's face went slack as he recalled the long night.

"That bad?" asked Ser Daven with a sympathetic look, smiling.

"It was, my lord."

"Cerenna told me that the queen made you lie with her lion cub while women spent the night gossiping."

"Yes, my lord. What I would have given for the lion cub to purr louder."

After guffawing, Ser Daven asked, "Did the queen say anything of interest, anything political?"

Eryck gnawed his lip before he responded hesitantly, "I don't want to betray the queen."

"I won't tell." Ser Daven gave Eryck a nod of reassurance.

"Well, she seemed quite upset that she will no longer be queen once her son turns of age. She believes that women should be allowed to sit on the throne."

"Ah. I knew that." With a heavy brow, Ser Daven again became lost in thought. After a while, he turned to his jester. "You are literate and wiser than your station; what is your opinion: should women be given the full right to sit on the throne?"

Eryck nervously gazed forward as he contemplated his answer. "My lord, when it comes to the throne, I don't think it matters as long as the person is wise, compassionate, and just."

Ser Daven nodded. "True. Unfortunately, we only learn such of things after a king has sat on the throne for some time. Rulers tend to hide their true persona until they have attained the crown. Tell me; did you find the queen wise, compassionate, and just?"

"I don't know the queen well enough to say, my lord. I am a mere, humble servant."

"Do you find me wise, compassionate, and just?"

With growing confidence, Eryck smiled and said, "My lord, I don't know you well enough to say. I am only your mere and humble servant."

"You are a clever one; aren't you?"

"I'm quite fond of my head, my lord. I would like to keep it."

Patting the fool on the shoulder, Ser Daven laughed wholeheartedly, his curiosities into his family fulfilled.

When they neared the tannery, the scent of the workshop caused some of the knights to start clearing their throats. Ser Daven exhaled heavily, putting on a braver face than his men.

Scrunching his nose, Eryck found his readjustment to the smell more difficult than expected. "My lord, it's the bating of the animal hides that give the aroma its punch. Master Behn claims that heating the chicken manure mixture is essential."

"It must work; he produces the best leather in all of Westeros. I suspect that it also keeps bandits at bay?"

Eryck chuckled. "It must, my lord. He's never been robbed."

As the procession started to exit a bend in the road, the tannery began to come into view. Hanging skins outside, Ryver announced the arrival the lordship, which brought the others hurrying outside.

Master Behn stepped to the forefront, smiling when recognized Eryck. When the procession stopped before the tannery, he bowed to his lordship. "Ser Daven, I am honored by your visit. I hope my apprentice served you well."

"That he did, Master Behn. He served dutifully and bravely, saving my sisters from a terrible fate."

Impressed by his lordship's praise, Master Behn clasped his hands behind his back. "We heard rumors but weren't sure what to believe."

Feeling his face redden, Eryck shrugged. "I only delayed the bandits until the knights came to our rescue."

Ryver's brow rose with curiosity. "They said in the tavern that you killed half a dozen men."

Eryck's expression became heavy with the memory. "Three. I was forced to kill three."

"You have to tell us the full story tonight," said Tobin.

"Sure." From the corner of his eye, Eryck caught the cold stare of the former lieutenant. Trying to ignore the man, Eryck slid off his horse and passed the reins to the mounted stable boy.

"I didn't know you could ride," commented Tobin.

"They taught me the basics," said Eryck.

Biting his lip, Master Behn stepped next to his apprentice. "Ser Daven, may I ask something?"

"Of course, my friend."

"Was Eryck _the fool_ actually funny? While he was gone, we couldn't recall him ever even telling a joke in the workshop."

Ser Daven briefly gazed down at Eryck. "I found your apprentice...amusing. I'll leave it at that."

"Very good, m'lord." Master Behn patted his apprentice on the shoulder. "Welcome back, laddie."

"Thank you, my lord." Eryck grimaced as soon as the words slipped past his tongue.

With a raised eyebrow, Master Ben scrutinized the young man. "My lord? Laddie, I'd say you took one too many knocks to the head if the bruising on your face says anything."

Reaching into an inner pocket, Ser Daven produced a small scroll of paper and offered it to Eryck. "One last thing."

Accepting the scroll, Eryck held it like a loyal servant, waiting for further instruction.

"Since you took the time to learn to read, you might as well save me the bother. Please, read that aloud."

Eryck unrolled the scroll and began reading aloud:

_For his devoted service to House Lannister, I, Ser Daven, Warden of the West, bestow the honorary title of Jester of Casterly Rock to Eryck Leder, a man who has forever earned my gratitude. Signed, Ser Daven._

Eryck inhaled deeply as he gazed at the paper. "Thank you, my lord."

"You're welcome. And now, it is time for me to serve. Our lustrous queen has ordered me to the riverlands, and I hope to get there before sundown." Ser Daven leaned down and shook Eryck's hand.

Master Behn next shook his lordship's hand. "I wish you safe travels, my lord."

"Thank you, my friend. I'll need all the luck I can get." Ser Daven turned his horse and returned to the road.

As the castle guard turned their horses in succession, one particular knight did not spur his horse into action. Locking eyes with Eryck, the knight lingered ominously as the other horseman disappeared around the bend. The former lieutenant spat onto the ground and then spurred his horse into a gallop in pursuit of the procession.

As his fellow tanners gathered around Eryck, confused at what they had just witnessed, Tobin asked, "What was that about?"

"It's just a jaded knight," replied Eryck, frowning. "That's all."


	11. The Shadows

**11 The Shadows**

Alone in the woods, Eryck awoke in his shack to the smell of the tannery re-imprinted in his skin. Crinkling his nose at the familiar smell, his readjustment to his old life would be more difficult than he expected.

He rolled over to see how basic his little shack in the woods actually was—sad when compared to the most basic servant quarters in the two castles he visited. In his makeshift home, he did not have enough ceiling to stand, not to mention that he could never seal the shack completely from mosquitoes. The current weather did make his humble home comfortable by cutting down the number of pests, but the change also meant less light to read after work, which forced him to use candles—money he did not have.

Then there was the coming winter; he wondered if returning to the apprentice hut was unavoidable. The burlap sheet he used in his makeshift window to combat mosquitoes would soon need to be replaced with wood planks. In addition, the howling winds were becoming more common, the crisp air easily cutting through his shelter.

And not only was it dark before he finished work, he had to be extra careful with his tracks so not to create noticeable trails through the forest. The foliage had began to wane; the weaker resilience revealing trails that stray bandits might someday discover—though he had no possessions worth stealing.

Sitting up, he looked at his freshly stained hands. His first task upon his return to the tannery was to prepare a fresh tanning mixture consisting of fresh cow brains that had been delivered that morning. Vegetable tanning was less hard on the senses, but Eryck even had to admit that his boss's formula, a special combination of the two, produced the best leather.

Not yet fully awake, Eryck remembered that his boss had scheduled this afternoon for the delivery of new goatskins to the bookbinder. The thought of sharing tea with his friend finally got him off his straw bed and dressing. As he sorted his clothes, he paused to inspect the book that Cerenna had given him, for yesterday after work, he had neither light nor candles to read any of the pages before turning in for sleep.

The book was old, and the language an ancient form of common speak, which meant that Eryck could read it. He flipped through the pages to discover drawings lightly dispersed throughout the book. Studying an illustration of the moon, the delicate detail amazed him, and he wondered how accurate the ancient copyist had been when they painfully recreating each work. _How many of these did you draw? How many books produced? _Eryck wondered.

Eryck was about to close the book when it flipped to a page with a large illustration of an owl. His hand quickly slapped onto the page as the closing pages fell close. He quickly reopened the book for further inspection to find that the owl drawn with black ink on yellowing paper looked vaguely familiar to the one he had been encountering. Below the illustration, the text read, _Death's Shadow_.

Reading further, Eryck learned that this white owl was believed to guide lost souls to their next life, without which the dead would be doomed to an eternity of wandering in the shadows. The foreshadowing of death was common with owl myths, but the difference with this bird was that the creature foretold the spotter's death—not someone closely related to the spotter, as with more popular myths.

The sound of a branch breaking under footstep gave Eryck a start. He slowly peered out his makeshift window to see a doe with two smaller trailing deer treading lightly through the forest. Breathing a sigh of relief, Eryck closed the book and finished dressing.

Finally, before leaving his shack, he uncovered his secret stash of books that he would need to deliver to the castle that afternoon. Revealing the depression dug under his mattress, he felt relieved to find the books unharmed in their waterproof pouch. He carefully returned the books to their hiding place and proceeded to go to work.

The day of soaking, dehairing, bating, and tanning progressed as any other day, with the exception of his thoughts returning to the book he had skimmed that morning. He had seen the owl, and he had seen grotesque death. _What if I see that owl again? Should I be worried?_

Behind the workshop, Eryck was stoking the fire that heated the bating tank when he began staring into the flames, his thoughts returning to the myth. "Nonsense," he said to himself, tossing another log into the furnace.

"What's nonsense, my boy?"

Eryck turned to find Master Behn. "Oh. There was a past discussion about magic that I was recalling."

"I take it that you don't believe in magic."

Eryck grabbed another log from the nearby stack. "No. If there was magic, it would be a common sight. Do you believe?"

"Yes." Master Behn crouched by the furnace door and held out his hands. "Do you think the fire you just stoked to be magic?"

"No."

"Why do we see a flame? Why does it give off heat?"

Eryck stared at the flames for a moment and shrugged. "It burns."

"Yes," said Master Behn, "but _why_?"

The young man shrugged again. "I'm sure someone interested in alchemy knows, or will soon figure it out."

Master Behn stood, tucking his warmed hands into his front pockets. "Wouldn't rather think it magic?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Magic is false hope," replied Eryck. "It's like believing in ghosts."

Master Behn smiled faintly. "What is life if not magic?"

"Science will someday explain everything." Eryck tossed one last log into the furnace.

"That will be a sad day," said Master Behn, pushing the furnace door close with his boot. "How do explain evil?"

"That's an easy one," replied Eryck. "Evil is humanity."

Master Behn's usual good-natured gaze turned to one of concern. Slowly, his gaze shifted to the sun hovering over the horizon and said, "Only a few hours of daylight left. You should go now if you want to take the goatskins to the bookbinder."

With a simple nod, he turned to the nearby washbasin to prepare to go into Lannisport.

As the old man walked past Eryck, he patted the lad on the shoulder. "Let's hope your friend can lift your spirits."

Eryck solemnly watched his master walk away, contemplating the man's words.

Returning to his delivery routine, Eryck strapped the skins to his back and began his journey. As per routine, he stopped at his shack to collect the books he had been reading. Upon quick inspection, he frowned, for he unfortunately did not finish one of the volumes, which was about trees. Now knowing what happens on the other side of the castle wall, Eryck thought with hindsight how he would have rather spent his time finishing the book than having become a fool for a week. He tucked the three books into his burlap sack and returned to the road—less enthusiastically than times before.

No longer playing the fool, Eryck properly waited like an outsider at the servant's door for the castle steward.

When the old man eventually appeared, he greeted the tanner with the usual distain. "And I thought I was rid of you."

"Nice to see you too, Mr. Spyre. The bookbinder has asked me to deliver these three completed books." Eryck pulled the three volumes from the sack. "Now that I know the location of the library, would you like me to save you the trouble?"

The steward wrinkled his nose. "I think not, Mr. Leder. We would not want to upset anyone with your smell should you pass them in the corridor."

Eryck reluctantly passed the books to the Steward. "You do have a sensitive nose, Mr. Spyre. Wouldn't want you fainting or anything."

"Exactly. Good day to you, Mr. Leder," said the steward, peering down his nose before promptly shutting the door.

When Eryck later entered the bookbinder shoppe, Mr. Ayrn Foryst greeted him with his familiar warm smile. "Ah, Eryck. It is so good to see you again. How are you?"

"I just delivered the last batch of books to the castle."

"I don't care about the books." Ayrn hobbled from behind his workbench and placed his hand on Eryck's shoulder. "How are you? I heard about the attack on Lannister sisters. They said that the fool fought back the bandits and saved the young women. Is that true? Was that you?"

"Yes. I'm not sure how I did it, but I somehow bought us enough time until the castle guard arrived."

With his years of wisdom, Ayrn looked sympathetically into Eryck's eyes, knowing the peaceful nature of his friend. "They said that you killed some of the bandits."

"Yes," said Eryck, sounding older than his years. "Three of them. I had no choice."

"I don't suppose you did." Ayrn gestured to the table. "Come sit down, and I'll prepare some tea."

Eryck moved to the workbench where he found the latest book in process of rebinding, scattered over the surface. The folded collections of paper—called signatures—waited to be put in order and sewn into a new binding. Reading the text, Eryck discovered another historical text describing the latest conflict between kingdoms. "I think it would be more interesting to read a historical text from the losing side."

"So would I," replied Ayrn, removing the water from the hearth to the table. "Sadly, those who could write their account are now dead. And if something had been written, they probably destroyed it upon discovery."

"It should be against the law to destroy the written word, no matter who writes it or the subject matter. Don't they realize how much work goes into writing? It's not like snapping your fingers and having the pages appear around the world for anyone to read."

"I won't argue with you there." Setting two cups of tea on the uncluttered end of the workbench, Ayrn finished the setting with a small plate of hard biscuits. "Come sit; tea is ready."

Eryck scooted up onto a stool and reached for a biscuit. Not wanting to risk his teeth, he dipped the biscuit into the hot tea. "I forgot to bring my bottle of wine. Myrielle Lannister gave me a bottle in appreciation for fighting off the bandits. Since I do not drink, I thought I would give it to you. Ser Daven said it was one of his sister's favorites."

"Sounds expensive. You could sell it for candles."

Eryck blew on his tea. "I wouldn't even know where to begin with pricing the wine. I'm sure I'd be underpaid."

"Ask the owner of the nearby tavern."

"Then I'm guaranteed to be conned." Eryck smiled. "I still want you to have it. The books you have secretly lent me are worth more than all the wine in the world."

"Okay." Ayrn sipped his tea. "It would be nice to see what the well to do drink these days." The old man watched Eryck dip the rest of his biscuit into his tea and begin chewing. "So, how did you come to be a court jester for a week?"

"Didn't anyone tell you?"

"No. I only heard second hand rumors, and as you know, I don't put any faith in those."

Eryck forced down the last bite of hard biscuit. "While touring Lannisport, Ser Daven visited the tannery and took notice of my word choices when I spoke. Playing a hunch, he asked me to read something."

"Didn't you feign ignorance?"

Nodding, Eryck began to stir his tea. "I did at first, but Ser Daven could not let go of his hunch. He was nice about it and asked a second time. Overall, I find the warden a thoughtful man, so when he asked me to answer as_ the man I wanted to be_, I decided to reveal my literacy. I easily read the book held out before me."

Sipping his tea, Ayrn set down his cup and asked, "But why did Ser Daven make you a jester?"

"To torment his sisters. I think he wanted me to spy on them, to see if they were up to something."

"Are they?"

The young man became motionless, staring into his cup of tea.

"Eryck?"

Snapping out his thoughts, Eryck cleared his throat. "Sorry. No. Nothing worth mentioning."

"I also heard that you fought Ser Jagger at the tourney. Is this also true?"

"Yes," replied Eryck. "I opened my big mouth and had to answer for it. They did give us wooden swords, but those did not stop him from trying to kill me. Mercifully, they stopped him once he knocked me unconscious."

"Sounds horrifying."

"That's not the worst thing while serving as their fool. I later met Queen Cersei. She made me lie with her lion cub as she spent the night drinking wine and gossiping with her cousins. The lion cub was friendly, but it kept hugging me, poking me with its claws. I was terrified that it would bite me like a kitten. I'd have to say that it was one of the longest nights of my life."

Ayrn sipped his tea, continuing to study his friend. "Was that the worse of it?"

Staring down at his teacup, Eryck chewed his lip, knowing best not to say anything. He wanted to speak, but he understood that the horror he witnessed could not even be safely obfuscated with white lies.

As Eryck searched for something to say, Ayrn saved him by diverting his attention, "Surely, something good must have happened."

Slowly, a smile formed on his lips. "For fighting the bandits, Cerenna allowed me full access to the castle's library. I can share with you that she allowed me to pick some of the books that will be rebounded next."

"I hope you picked some good ones," commented Ayrn.

"I hope so too. The library is so vast that I could not even skim through it in an afternoon. They even have books written in dead languages. Makes me wonder if anyone will ever again decipher them."

"I'm sure someday they will find a way." Ayrn finished his tea and gently set down his cup. "Had they offered you a permanent servant position, would you have accept it? Very few in our world get a chance at a career change."

"Ser Daven sort of did, but I declined."

"Why?"

"Life inside the Castle is...complicated, to say the least. And being a castle servant is time consuming. I probably would have even less time to read. On top of that, there is no guarantee that I'd have access to the library." Eryck finished his tea, setting his cup next to his friend's. "I've also learned that there is no prestige from serving royalty. I would rather be a librarian than a knight."

Ayrn smiled.

"What?"

"You keep getting wiser by the day." The bookbinder slid from his stool. "I'll heat up some more tea."

After further tea and stories, Eryck eventually set out with three newly rebounded books in his burlap sack and proceeded to head home. Darkness had descended on Lannisport with most of the remaining human activity congregating around the taverns. As Eryck passed one familiar tavern, he thought he recognized a face amongst the crowd gathered out front. Inquisitively, Eryck weaved back around and through the crowd but failed to find the person—to his relief.

Eryck returned to the road and continued until he reached a bend. Taking one last look back at the distant tavern, Eryck wondered if he saw something midway moving in the shadows. He called out to the person but received no reply. Attributing his paranoia to his horrific week prior, Eryck carried on home with slightly a quicker step.

The road fell under complete darkness as the young tanner continued his journey home, using the familiar ruts created by wagons as a haptic guide. The road had never once had given him worry in regard to his safety, but this night, the perception of footsteps in the distance—or so he thought—lengthened his step. His eyes began to dart about, searching for any signs of life, animal or human, as he fought the urge to run.

When he reached the spot where he would normally leave the road for his hidden forest sanctuary, he instead remained on the road and walked on towards the tannery.

Eryck franticly knocked on the door to the apprentice hut. When the door opened, he could barely make out friend's face in the darkness. "Hey, Ryver. It's Eryck. Can I bunk with you guys tonight?"

"Ya. Sure." Ryver stepped aside so Eryck could enter. "You don't have to ask. This is place is as much yours as ours."

"I know, but I'd thought with me mostly sleeping in the woods that I should ask."

Lying on his straw mattress, Tobin rolled onto his side, "Why aren't you sleeping in your shack?"

"I thought I heard something big in the darkness. Since I couldn't see it, I decided to play it safe."

"I don't know how you do it," said Ryver. "The sound of all those critters moving about the darkness would drive me nuts."

In the corner, Eryck set down his burlap sack where his unused straw mattress lay on the floor. "The sounds of the small critters are actually soothing. I only begin to worry when I do not hear them. Too much silence is a sign that something bigger lurks nearby."

"Do you want us to light a candle?" asked Ryver.

"No," replied Eryck. "I'm going straight to bed." He walked casually to the sole window in the hut and peered out.

Curious about his friend's behavior, Ryver joined him at the open window. "Do you see anything?"

"No," replied Eryck, continuing his search.

"You can close the window if you want. With the weather turning cooler, we leave it open since there are fewer mosquitoes." Ryver turned away, returning to his straw mattress.

Silently, Eryck continued to scour the shadows, his pulse slowly subsiding.

"Eryck?" asked Tobin.

"Yes?"

"What happened last week? You seem different."

Eryck turned to see the silhouettes of his friends preparing to go to sleep. "Nothing besides getting my ass kicked by a knight at a tourney. Heed my advice: don't try to be funny—even if it is your job to be. How different do I appear?"

"A lot," replied Ryver.

Unable to share his secrets, Eryck retired to his floor mattress. As he covered himself with a scratchy wool blanket provided by Master Behn, he said, "I guess I'm a little disappointed with what I discovered inside the castle walls."

"What did you discover?" asked Tobin.

"That fairy tales are just tales," replied Eryck, shutting his eyes. He now felt grateful the darkness, which hid his welling tears. Grateful for his friend's companionship, his muscles started to relax. Clearing his throat, he said, "There are no princesses in towers, no honorable knights, no gleaming castles with wise and just kings…or queens...no gods..."

Letting the solemn conversation drop, the three friends soon fell asleep.

Later, Eryck awoke to darkness and judged that he had slept for only a couple hours. As his eyes tried to make out the various shapes in the room, he had the inclination that the room had become darker—as if a shadow now occupied it. He sat up to discover the white owl perched in the windowsill.

With his heart racing, Eryck stared at the owl's silhouette in the window. He could not tell if the bird's feathers were spotless—or even white, but the young man felt assured that it was the same ominous bird of prey. _Have you come for me? _Eryck wondered.

When the owl took flight, Eryck gasped. He quickly donned his clothes and slipped out the door in search of the bird. When he could not find any signs of life, Eryck headed for the clearing before the tannery, his eyes skimming the trees.

Then out of the darkness, the owl whooshed past his head and perched on a nearby tree. Hooting once, the owl's head appeared to twitch nervously.

Once Eryck realized that the owl had turned him in the direction of his shack, he knew where he was supposed to go. Eryck entered the forest and carefully made his way past low branches and through the brush. The damp air helped silence the forest floor, but he still progressed forward on his tiptoes in pursuit of the owl as the bird flew from tree to tree.

Recognizing one of the many ridges of landscape that hid his shelter from passersby, Eryck slowed his progress. Before he reached the top of the gradual incline, he began to hear the slurred singing of a man. Eryck reached the crest and knelt down behind a large elm tree, finding a drunken knight staggering outside his shelter.

The man mumbled inextricably when he suddenly raised his voice in anger. "Where are you? You little shit! I know you're out here, somewhere. You want glory? I'll give it to you at the end of my blade. Fucking fool!"

Recognizing the former lieutenant voice, Eryck lowered himself further as he watched the man stagger forward and toss something against a tree that shattered like glass.

"I drank all of your wine!" hollered Ser Karsan. "Good shit that."

Then Eryck heard the distinct sound of a boot kicking in his scrap wood shelter. When the sound of destruction halted, the sound of urine showering the remnants of his flattened home signaled the final insult.

"You can't hide from me forever!" Ser Karsan then staggered away in the direction of Casterly Rock, disappearing into the shadows of the forest.

Following the departure of the former lieutenant, the owl took flight from its nearby branch and disappeared into the night.

Eryck sat onto the ground and leaned back against the elm tree. He did not cry or mourn the loss of his simple home, for he knew that he had escaped great harm—or even death. He sighed with the understanding that he could never return to his old life, feeling very much the fool for thinking that he ever could.


	12. The Narrow Escape

**12 The Narrow Escape**

The following morning, Eryck stood before the remnants of his former shack. Accompanied by his two friends, he could still see small puddles of urine that dotted his flattened shelter with dampened stains dispersed across some of the more absorbent boards tangled amongst the lumber.

Always uncomfortable in the forest, Tobin nervously glanced over his shoulders. "You lived here? Alone?"

"Ya. I used to." Eryck stepped forward to closer inspect the debris. "By the way, thank you, guys for coming here with me."

Ryver circled the collapsed structure. "No problem. How do you know Ser Karsan did this?"

"I saw the bastard when he did it."

Tobin gave Eryck a quizzical look. "But how did you _know _that he had found your shack?"

Bunching his lips together, Eryck struggled with how much to share. "Don't laugh, but an owl warned me."

Ryver stopped his inspection of the damage and stood upright. "An owl?"

"Yes," confirmed Eryck. "I woke to find the bird sitting in the window last night. I followed it here to find the knight destroying my shelter."

Tobin promptly returned his attention to the surrounding forest. "Maybe a witch sent you a warning?"

Eryck rolled his eyes. "There are no witches, no magic."

"Oh ya," retorted Tobin. "Then why would you follow the owl if you don't believe in magic?"

Eryck stared at the urine stained wood, shocked that he had been outwitted his friend. "I don't know why I followed the bird."

"I know why," said Ryver. "Magic."

With a heavy sigh, Eryck began to pull apart the lumber at one corner in search of his book. "Okay then, why would a witch want to warn me?"

Tobin's smile betrayed his thoughts, his answer for most perplexities to life. "Maybe the witch wants to mate with you. Since witches also like to live in the woods, maybe she has developed a crush on you."

Pausing only long enough to roll his eyes, Eryck continued his search.

"Ya," added Ryver. "But don't mate with her. She has to kill you once you've completed."

"To keep her identity a secret?" asked Tobin.

"No. She needs your blood to feed to her spawn."

Tobin nodded. "Ah, that makes sense."

Eryck paused again to glare at his friends. "That makes no sense at all."

Tobin turned his nervous gaze outward, scanning the forest. "How do you know? They say strange things keep migrating down from the north. Travelers keep saying that the sightings of magic keep increasing."

Pushing a large piece of scrap wood aside, Eryck peered into a dark hole. "Have either of you ever seen magic?"

"I have," replied Ryver. "I've seen wisps in the summer, near the swamp."

Fumbling in the debris, Eryck located his tin candleholder. When he pulled it from the hole, he discovered it crushed into a flat lump. _Dammit, _he thought. Sighing, he said, "Wisps are not magic."

"What are they?" countered Tobin.

"A maester in Highgarden thinks that the wisps are nothing more than swamp gas erupting into small flame.

"Where did you hear that?" asked Ryver.

"I read it...in a book." Eryck's face went blank with a sad realization. _Where am I going to read now?_

"What book?" asked Tobin.

"Oh, um, just a random book at the binder's shop. I sometimes read a few pages while the binder prepares tea. He likes to make me tea since I help him transport the books."

Ryver hopped atop a large bolder sticking partially out of the ground and shoved his hands into his pockets. "I'll deliver his books for a couple pints of ale."

"Me too," added Tobin.

"The binder only has tea in his shop."

"Pass," said the two friends in unison.

Tossing another piece of lumber aside, Eryck discovered the book given to him by Cerenna. Tragically, he found the book gutted with most of the pages torn out. Sighing angrily, he carefully set the shell of the book off to the side and began to move further pieces of his shack in search of the pages. With each piece of scrap wood, his anger grew as his body's movements became fervid as he piled up the lumber.

"Eryck, are you okay?" asked Ryver.

"No. The bastard destroyed my book." Eryck knelt down and began gathering more pages torn out of the book.

Seeing their friend's distress, Tobin and Ryver assisted in the gathering of pages, stacking the sheets into neat piles.

Once all the pages were gathered, Eryck accepted the stacks collected by his friends and began staring at the disarranged book in his hands. Unable to make eye contact, he swallowed and said, "Thank you."

"Are you going to rebuild your shack?" asked Tobin.

"Not while this guy has it out for me. He'll just destroy it again."

Ryver picked up the smashed candleholder along with some of Eryck's other mangled possessions. "With any luck, that pig in human clothing will fall off his horse and break his neck."

"If only," sighed Eryck.

With a pair of recovered blankets tucked under his arms, Tobin found the burlap sack in which he began inserting some of Eryck's possessions. "Maybe you can go to Ser Daven?"

"No. This is beneath him. Anyway, he's lenient with his knights. He's not like the former Lord Tywin. That man would have personally hung all those knights had they gotten that close to Queen Cersei. He probably would have hung me too, just to drive his message home."

"Well," continued Tobin, "You're always welcome in the apprentice hut. It's as much your home as it is ours.

"Ya," added Ryver. "Plus it's a good dry place where you can put your book back together."

Trying to hide his grief, Eryck lifted his gaze from the book and stared up into the tree canopy, taking a deep calming breath. "Thanks, guys."

Ryver nodded towards the tannery. "Come, we're late for work. The boss said that two cowhides are due to be delivered this morning.

As they began walking single file towards the tannery, Tobin fell in behind his friends. "Hey, Eryck; maybe you can read us parts of the book while you put it back together."

"Sure," replied Eryck.

"I would like to hear some tales about magic."

"You would? I'd say it's only tales. Don't expect any truth."

"That doesn't matter," replied Tobin. "Who doesn't like stories about the magical forces of good against the magical forces of evil? Where else do we ever get to hear about the good guys winning, if not in tales?"

Clutching the pages closer to his body, Eryck mumbled, "Where else indeed."

**...**

As the tannery broke for their midday meal, Eryck sat at one of the benches to sort through the pages of his book. Most pages had been cleanly torn from the book, but a few were ripped in half. Matching most of the torn sections, Eryck believed that he had all the pieces. The folds could be stitched into a new binding, but the torn pages would need to be recopied if another solution could not be found. Eryck smiled, feeling lucky to have an old friend who knew exactly what to do.

Finished with their meal, Ryver and Tobin approached Eryck at his bench. Glancing at the scattered parts of the book, Ryver asked. "Are all the pages there?"

"I believe so. I'll ask the binder what I should do about the torn ones."

Tobin picked up a folded collection of pages and squinted at the printed letters. "I don't know how anyone can learn to read. Each time glance at a book, the words look completely different, the letters shapes I mean. Does the differences from book to book make them hard to read?"

Eryck accepted the folded sheets from Tobin. "Sometimes, but you get used to it. It's just like any other skill, it becomes easier over time."

Tobin pointed at the paper in Eryck's hand. "Why do they do that thing with the top line of letters? It all looks like random pen strokes to me."

"The chapter titles, and sometimes the opening sentence, are written with more flair."

"Flair?" queried Tobin.

"Um, the style." Seeing the confused looks of his friends, Eryck tried again to define it. "Artsy."

"Ah," respond his friends in unison.

Smiling, Eryck glanced down at cover page. When he began to read the text, his smile faded, his expression turning serious.

"What's wrong?" asked Tobin.

"Nothing. The chapter title is _The Price of Magic._"

"That sounds spooky," commented Ryver. "Can you read that to us tonight?"

"Sure," replied Eryck as he skimmed the text.

Tobin lightly elbowed Ryver's shoulder. "I thought we were going to the tavern tonight?"

"Ah right. The book can wait; fresh ale cannot."

Ryver watched his friend read and then asked, "Eryck, do you want to go out with us tonight?"

"Na. I need to finish putting my book in order before my next delivery of goatskins." Without looking up, Eryck turned the page, knowing he had stumbled upon something.

**...**

That night, Eryck used his friends' candle to read the chapter pointed out by Tobin. In it, he found the author's principles to be in line with his own beliefs: magic was a tool for those seeking an easy solution to their problems, a cowardly veil to hide ones deficiencies and fear of mortality.

When he finished the lengthy chapter, Eryck immediately began reflecting over the text as he set aside the pages and blew out the candle. Sitting with his back against the wall, he was surprised that a book about the history of magic could be so profound—not to mention grounded in reality.

Staring out the open window, he recalled the winged visitor from the night before. Eryck considered for a moment that divine intervention had sent him the owl for a specific reason, but ultimately, he returned to the idea that the bird was just an owl—or multiple owls—that had crossed his path by happenstance.

Eryck continued to stare out the window, wishing for the bird to show up, to show him that there was more to life than dying. He stared intently out the window, daring magic to prove him wrong when the door to the apprentice hut swung open.

A gangly figure staggered through the door, causing Eryck to squeal in fright. The gangly figure gave a frighten squeal of its own before bolting for the door, only to be bounced back into the room by a stocky figure who made an even more frightful noise.

"Ryver?" called Eryck.

"Eryck?" countered Ryver.

"Ryver, is that you?" asked Tobin.

"Of course it's me, you idiot. You were right behind me; weren't you?"

"Ya, but I thought I heard a woman scream."

"That was me," confessed Eryck.

"Who ran into me just now?" asked Tobin, leaning against the doorframe.

"That was me." Ryver staggered to his corner of the room, sprawling out face down on his straw mattress. "Stop asking questions. You're drunk."

"Ah, right." Tobin slowly closed the door to the hut and shuffled uneasily to his corner. "Did I remember to pee before coming in here?"

"Yes," replied Ryver. "Like it matters. You're going to piss yourself anyway."

As both men chuckled, Eryck reclined on his straw mattress as the stench of the tavern began to waft to his side of the room. Ignoring the smell, he pulled his blanket over his shoulder when Ryver began speaking.

"Eryck, did you hear the news?

"What news?"

"The lieutenant that got demoted, the one that hates you..."

"Ser Karsan? What about him?"

Cheerfully, Ryver announced, "He's dead."

Eryck sat up, listening for more news that did not come. "Ryver? Are you sure?"

"Ya. That's what some of the knights said in the tavern."

"How did he die?"

"I know this one," replied Tobin, rolling onto his side.

Eryck listened intently, but only heard the sound of heavy, drunken breathing. "Hey? Somebody tell me, please."

"Um," continued Ryver, "they said Ser Karsan woke just before dawn and began to vomit, saying that he had too much to drink. But the thing is, he didn't stop vomiting. He then began to complain of stomach pain just before vomiting up blood. Soon after, witnesses said that blood started coming out of every orifice, including his eyes and ears. The man was screaming in pain, claiming that it felt as if he was being burnt alive."

"I know what happened," slurred Tobin from his bed.

"Shut up, you oaf. I'm telling him the story."

"Who said that?" asked Tobin.

"It's me, Ryver. You're shit faced. What do I tell you to do when your shit faced?"

"Stay quiet and ignore the voices in my head until the sun comes back up."

"Correct."

"I can do that," said Tobin as he rolled onto his stomach, mumbling incoherently to himself.

Once Tobin quieted, Ryver called out softly. "Eryck, are you still awake?"

"Yes, of course. Tell me everything."

"Right. Um...where was I?"

"Burning alive," replied Eryck, trying to keep his composure.

"Right. Ser Karsan said the pain was too much to bear and asked for a mercy killing. But before the maesters could decide on anything, the man died."

Stunned by the news, Eryck's mouth had become dry, forcing him to swallow. "Do they know what caused it?"

"They think it was a magic spell. Some sort of curse."

"Why would they think that?"

"Because I haven't told you the strangest part."

"What?" Eryck tossed off his blanket, wiping away the sweat that began to form on his brow.

"The maesters had stepped outside to compose themselves, to discuss what happened, and when they returned, they found that Ser Karsan's flesh had already begun rotting and was falling from the bone. Within a few hours, all that was left was his skeleton."

Losing the feeling in his face, Eryck nervously began rubbing his jaw.

"They think that someone or something cursed him with magic."

Eryck's mind raced as he contemplated the cause. "Maybe he ate something that made him sick."

"Have you ever heard of bad food making the flesh fall off the bones?"

"No," replied Eryck.

"I'm betting that there is a witch nearby, the good type—if there is such a thing."

"Why would you say that?"

"Because she seems to be on your side," replied Ryver. "Now you don't have to worry about that knight harassing you."

"I suppose."

Ryver turned over on his bed, the hay to crinkling softly within the mattress shell. "Good night, Eryck."

Eryck lay on his back without bidding good night. Pulling his blanket up to his chin, he stared into the darkness with wide eyes. Immediately discounting the theory of bad food—along with the idea of a witch, one remaining thought gripped him: poison.

**...**

In the early morning light, Eryck made his way through the forest for his shack. When he reached his prior home, he began to search for the wine bottle that the former lieutenant had smashed against a tree. In seconds, Eryck spotted the disfigured bark on one of the nearby elm trees.

At the base of the tree, Eryck found three large pieces of wine bottle with small shards of glass scattered about. He did not dare touch the glass, for the scarred bark and exposed sapwood gave plenty of heeding, appearing as if chewed away by thousands of insects. The area beneath the impact showed scarring from the streams of wine that had spilled through the coarse bark. Taking a step back, Eryck wondered if the poison would continue to eat away at the tree. Staring up into the canopy, he honestly hoped not.

Returning to the tannery, he tried to begin his workday but felt compelled to pester his friends into retelling the tale of the dying knight.

Though Tobin could not remember returning home in a drunken stupor, he still remembered the story shared by knights at the tavern. Matching Tobin's version of the story, Ryver later retold his version of the story, adding that the mysterious death was all that anyone talked about in Lannisport.

When Eryck eventually returned to his work—scraping the hair from a fresh cowhide, he wondered why Myrielle would try to poison him.

Unable to focus, Eryck eventually approach his boss. "Master Behn, I was wondering if I could slip away for a couple hours. The binder asked me to deliver some books to the castle. He said it was an important delivery, and I told him that I would try to deliver them today. I have a cowhide in the bating tank. It will be ready for me by the time I return. I'll stay late to finish my work."

Master Behn looked about the tannery to judge the day's progress. Nodding, he said, "Okay. Just let the others know that you're not abandoning your work and that you will finish it upon return."

"Yes, sir."

After informing his friends, Eryck collected the three latest books from the apprentice hut and headed for the castle. Eryck proceeded to the servant's entrance where the castle's steward again greeted him. Skipping all small talk, Eryck passed off the books and departed, leaving the steward perplexed by the young man's silence.

Eryck strolled slowly through the back courtyard, passing various servants performing various chores when he spotted the cook, Bessie, carrying a large wooden bucket from her kitchen. He nonchalantly walked up alongside her. "Hi, Bessie."

"Hi, Eryck. What a pleasant surprise. What brings you buy?"

"I had a special delivery from the bookbinder." Eryck glanced at the bucket. "I can carry that for you."

"Thanks, deary." After handing off the bucket, the cook stretched her back. "I need to get out of the kitchen more often. Come this way, that's slop for the pigs."

When Eryck dumped the slop into the pig trough, a half dozen excited swine scurried forward, pushing against each other in a frenzy to get at the rotting food.

Eryck leaned against the railing, dazzled by the spectacle. "You'd think they hadn't been fed in weeks, but they are all quite plump."

"True," commented Bessie. "They're never satisfied. They'd eat as much as I could throw at them."

"Kind of like people."

Bessie nodded. "More than not."

Gnawing his lip, Eryck stepped back from the fence. "Is Myrielle in the castle? She is supposed to have a special book that needs rebinding. I could deliver it to the bookbinder today if it's convenient for her."

"She's here. She has recently been working in her garden every day. If she's up, you'll probably find her there. I must warn ya; she has ordered the servants not to disturb her."

"What is she doing?"

"Beats me. I only know not to ask."

"Do you think I can ask about the book?"

"There is no harm trying, I suppose." Bessie pointed to a rock path that curved around the castle wall. "Just take that path. It leads directly to her garden."

Thanking Bessie, Eryck proceeded down the path as it followed the castle wall. Turning the corner, the courtyard widened, revealing a large open space of hedgerows and fountains. With the changing weather, the hedges and small trees appeared to have lost some of their rich color, giving the garden a lighter feel amongst the colorful flowerbeds and more vibrant pine trees. Near the center, Eryck spotted Myrielle working just behind a knee-high hedgerow as two castle guards stood a distant sentry on either side of the vast garden.

Knowing to seek permission, Eryck stopped well before guard and spoke loud enough for Myrielle to hear. "May I speak to lady? It is in regard to…a special errand."

"No one enters the garden," replied the stern guard. The knight coolly gripped the hilt of his sword. "No exceptions."

"Let him pass," called out Myrielle from the center of the garden. She stood, holding small shears in hand. "Let him pass unescorted."

The weary knight gave Eryck a second look and then gestured for the young man to proceed.

As Eryck walked past the guard, he watched as Myrielle immediately returned to her work behind the low hedgerow. Arriving at her side, he found her tending to several small yellow flowers interspersed amongst bare rose bushes.

Wearing thin leather gloves, Myrielle gently straightened one of the yellow flowers tangled amongst the thorny bush. Freeing the flower, she smiled and said, "Growing these within the thorn bushes protects them from unwitting animals."

Eryck knelt down for a closer inspection and recognized the tiny flower to be the one recovered by her sister from the dungeon in King's Landing. "I thought the flower to be an antidote, my lady?"

"It's both. The flowers are the poison, and within the stem is the antidote. If you eat petals and stem, you may survive, but you'll probably wish you hadn't."

"If you eat only the petals, your skin falls from your bones?"

Myrielle smiled wryly. "Not in its raw state. But with some careful modifications, mixed with additives that act as an accelerant, rapid tissue decomposition may occur."

"Are you doing something to make them grow faster?"

"Ah, yes. I discovered a soil formula in an ancient priest's journal that speeds up growth. I've also been able to make certain plant life grow as if in warmer clients. From what I have learned about this flower, it appears to be growing twice as fast. This particular flower normally blooms just before winter, before the snow. This is probably why so many thought the plant to be extinct." Resting her hands on her knees, Myrielle stared at her work. "These flowers are probably not even close to becoming extinct. With their preference for cooler weather, I suspect that they gone dormant over long hot summer. I've been fortunate to coax them into blooming this far south."

"Perhaps they will start blooming naturally elsewhere if we see a long winter. Nature adapts to climate cycles all the time."

"Perhaps." Myrielle eyed Eryck. "How have you come to know about climate cycles?"

"A book," replied Eryck. "Where else? A merchant captain gathered weather data over many years while sailing the seas. He began connecting his findings to ancient folklore and other weather legends, creating an interesting journal of theories about climate cycles that appear to have happened over the centuries. The book is in your library."

Myrielle hemmed as she inspected the next flower. "I'm sure it is. You probably know our library better than I do."

Stepping around the woman, Eryck noticed how the flowers ran the entire length of the hedgerow. "Why do you want to grow so many dangerous flowers? Wouldn't it be more prudent to grow a little?"

"War is coming. We could very well may need more than what you see."

"War with whom, my lady? I thought the major war was over."

"What? That little skirmish with the northerners. That was mere practice for what is to come. The red woman knows. Those of us with the knowledge know." Gazing down the hedgerow, Myrielle gnawed her lip. "Hopefully the seers' predications are wrong and none of this will be necessary." Tending to the next flower, she said in a soft tone. "All will be revealed in due time. That is all I can say."

"May I ask a _different _question, my lady?"

Carefully removing her hand from the thorn bush, Myrielle turned to Eryck. "If it is in regard to the wine bottle I gave you, yes, I poisoned it."

"Why did you want to poison me? I gave my word. I would never betray you or your sister."

Vexed at having to explain herself, Myrielle sighed heavily. "I wasn't poisoning you, I was protecting you."

"What? How, my lady?"

"That afternoon, while you were with Cerenna in the library, I created a new variant of my poison, using the tiniest amount of dried petal from this flower. As with each change in the formula, I needed to test this concoction. As fate would have it, you told me that the Ser Karsan had it out for you, and knowing that this man would waste no time seeking his revenge, I devised a trap. I thought the wine would be a perfect test since he was fond of drink, which you are not. Two birds, one stone, as some would say. Hmm? Pretty clever if I say so myself."

Stunned by her confession—and subsequent smile, Eryck stared at the woman. "I could have been killed, my lady."

"But you weren't." Myrielle continued to smile proudly.

"I almost gave the wine to my friend. I could have killed him."

"But you didn't." Myrielle returned to her flowers. "Stop fretting about things that didn't happen."

"You could have told me when you gave me the bottle."

Myrielle shook her head. "You would have ruined the trap had you known. I'm certain of it. The best traps are only known by the one who sets it."

"But—"

"But-but-but. If we worried about all the _could haves_, _would haves_, and _should haves _in our lives, we would be paralyzed with fear and indecision. I suggest you forget about what did not happen and focus on what did. You no longer have to worry about that man's vengeance. Is a simple thank you too much?"

"I could have been killed. I've nearly died for a," pausing, Eryck counted his near death experiences on his fingers, "a fourth time in the past two weeks." He crossed his arms in an attempt to rein in his growing frustration.

Glaring over her shoulder, Myrielle sternly eyed the young man. "Are we forgetting our place?"

Swallowing hard, Eryck cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, my lady. Thank you for protecting me..._though_ you almost killed me."

Rolling her eyes, Myrielle moved to the next flower. "There you go again, worrying about what didn't happen."

"Should I feel lucky?"

"Yes. That would be an optimistic way to view it."

Dismayed, Eryck watched as the woman who had killed a man on his behalf gently tended to her small yellow flowers. Seeing the steadiness of her hands, Eryck felt certain that she processed no guilt, that she felt just with what she had done. Though these sisters terrified him, the young man had grown to admire their ambitions and unwavering resolve—insane they may be. He himself could only wish for such lofty ambitions, to have something to give his life meaning.

_Maybe I could write a story about the Lannister women, _he thought. If he changed the names and locations, he could present the story as a fable—though few fables were ever put to paper. With his anger fading, Eryck had to admit that he felt relieved to be rid of the dangerous man. Speaking from his heart, he said, "Thank you, my lady. Thank you for saving my life."

"That's better," she said, flashing Eryck a smile.

His thoughts turned to one last concern. "My lady, I think the captain of the castle garrison also has it out for me."

"Not much I can do there. My brother is quite fond of the captain. They've known each other since they were children. It would be too risky for me to eliminate him without drawing unwanted attention to myself, and my work."

"My lady, are you sure that your brother doesn't know about your poison research?"

Removing her gloves, Myrielle stood. "He knows that I have a fascination with nature and alchemy, but he does not know the specifics. I'm certain that my brother prefers not to know what Cerenna or I do in our free time.

_Don't be so sure about that, _thought Eryck.

"He's the kind of man that prefers to not know what he doesn't know. You know?"

With a knitted brow, Eryck replied. "Um, I think so, my lady."

"Good." Myrielle dropped her gloves and small shears into a simple basket before brushing the grass remnants from her clothes. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"

With a calming sigh, Eryck said, "No, my lady. You've done more than enough."

"Very well. Good day, Mr. Leder." With a smile that now appeared more dangerous than radiate, Myrielle scooped up her basket and exited her garden, leaving the dumbfounded young man to his own.


	13. The Captain

**13 The Captain**

A couple days later, Eryck hurriedly added wood to the bating tank furnace as he prepared to the take recent batch of readied goatskins to the bookbinder. With his work completed, he quickly washed up outside by the well at a water basin. Shivering violently, he sniffed the cool air before pulling over his shirt, wondering how cold it would get once winter arrives.

Without books to deliver to Casterly Rock, he eagerly walked into Lannisport to the binder's shoppe, for it had been a long week, having to pass the nights without reading anything new—or anything that held his interest. Left with his damaged book of tales and magic, the young tanner had turned in early to sleep each night to his friends' consternation.

When Eryck happily entered the binder's shoppe, what he found brought him to an abrupt stop: Ser Lavin, the captain of the castle garrison, stood talking to the bookbinder. Nearby, one of the castle servants stood uncomfortably as he fidgeted with a short stack of books in his hands.

The captain gestured towards Eryck. "Speak of the devil. Here he is now."

Eryck removed his bundled goatskins from over his shoulder. "I have your delivery, Mr. Foryst."

The bookbinder waived the tanner forward and accepted the skins. "Thank you, Eryck."

The captain reached over and briefly inspected the goatskins with feigned interest. "I was reliably informed that this is your usual arrival time. I'm glad I caught you, Mr. Leder. I wanted to relay certain instructions to you in person."

"Instructions?" asked Eryck, his uneasiness growing.

"It has come to my attention that the person who delivers the books." The captain paused to gesture towards the nervous servant, "Is not the same person who returns them to the castle."

"That is true," said Eryck, "I deliver the books for Mr. Smith in exchange for tea and an occasional snack. He's my friend, so it's more out of friendship that I help him."

"So he has told me." The captain's eyes narrowed as his tone darkened. "However, I have deduced from the castle steward is that there is a substantial delay in delivery."

"I don't like making two trips to Casterly Rock in the same day." Eryck clasped his hands together so not to fidget like the servant. "It's too inconvenient."

"Ah, but, according to the castle steward, you first deliver the books in the late afternoon. He told me that you are quite punctual, except for last week's unexpected delivery when you showed up early…which happed to be just after Ser Karsan's mysterious…" The captain gnawed his lip as if discovering another piece of the puzzle. "Um, the steward mentioned that you normally carrying goatskins when you visit, skins I assume that you then deliver to Mr. Foryst, which he uses to rebind the books brought to him by this lad."

Seeing the bookbinder's distress, Eryck turned to the captain with a new resolve. "I like to save this stop for last so I can chat with my friend."

The captain glanced in the servant's direction before sharpening his gaze on Eryck. "Please tell me that you are not holding onto Ser Daven's books for a week, reading them without his permission."

"Ser Lavin, I—"

"Stop," interrupted the caption. "Don't tell me. When I brought this up to Ser Daven, he and his sisters came to your defense. Imagine that; they were all adamant in regard to your loyalty to House Lannister. And knowing of your literacy, Ser Daven even commented that he did not care if you had glanced at his books. He even seemed proud that you had learned to read."

Setting his skins on the counter, Mr. Foryst turned to the captain and asked, "Then why are you here?"

"Good questioned," replied the captain, smiling wryly. "You see; with the rash of disappearing knights, I've become quite concerned about my garrison at Casterly Rock. Sure, there is the occasional deserter or turncoat who decides to sell his services to a higher bidder, but the number of knights I have lost of recent, good knights, has me worried. You probably have heard of Ser Karsan's most mysterious death of recent. The same knight who had rescued Mr. Leder and the Lannister sisters from the bandit attack."

Letting his annoyance show, the bookbinder said, "Did not Ser Karsan stray from his charge, according to the sisters."

The captain gave the binder a cautionary look. "He ultimately did his duty." With a suspecting stare, the captain said to Eryck, "Ser Karsan informed me before he died that you had a book of magic hidden in your hideout in the woods. When I disclosed this to Ser Daven, he confirmed it to be a simple fairy tale book that was gifted to you by Cerenna Lannister."

"It is," retorted Eryck. "Come to the tannery and take it if you suspect otherwise."

"My men are already on their way to collect it. You can be certain that I will inspect the manuscript closely"

Biting his lip, Eryck felt an angry flush spread over his cheeks. "And I wasn't hiding in the woods. I choose to live there."

"Why are you rarely ever seen in any of the local taverns?"

"I like the solitude."

"So you say," commented the captain. "Dark sorcery is at work, the incidents of misfortune have been increasing, and until this evil is driven from our lands, I'm locking things down."

"Meaning?" asked Mr. Foryst.

"I have given orders that all unusual behavior is to be reported to me, especially anything that could be tied to magic."

Eryck returned the captain's hard stare. "There is no such thing as magic."

"So would say a sorcerer who would not want to be discovered."

"What does this have to do with me?" asked bookbinder.

The captain laid his hand gently on the castle servant's shoulder. "From this point forward, this lad, who delivers Ser Daven's books for repair, will be the only one permitted to return the finished books to the castle."

"Why," asked Mr. Foryst. "Eryck and I have an arrangement; besides, no book has ever been lost by him."

The captain's eyes narrowed on the young tanner. "Books can be dangerous in the wrong person's hands."

"I don't play with magic," declared Eryck, "I don't even believe in magic."

"And yet," retorted the captain, his words dripping with disdain, "I've lost my two best knights: one through a gruesome death by magic and the other missing without a trace. Both of whom you had a recent connection."

Knowing not to suggest poison, Eryck looked away, stewing in his anger.

"Perhaps," continued the captain. "If you truly want to remove all suspicion, you should tell your master that he should send someone else to deliver the weekly delivery of goatskins to this shoppe."

Wanting to lash out, Eryck dug his fingernails into the palm of his hand.

Stepping forward, Ser Lavin brought his face very close to the tanner's until their noses nearly touched. "Mr. Leder, if you are done delivering this week's skins, I suggest you leave. I still have business with Mr. Foryst to address."

The sad eyes of the bookbinder told Eryck that the argument could not be won and that he would only make trouble for the old man if he pushed back. Without further word, Eryck turned away and exited the shoppe.

Walking back to the tannery, the reality of the situation struck him, leaving the young man in an emotional state of shock. Numb to the world, he travelled down the center of the road in the encroaching darkness when the ground began to shake. Out of the shadows, two castle knights on galloping horseback appeared, forcing Eryck to dive out of the way. Landing in the mud of the wagon wheel track, Eryck heard one of the men curse him as they rode past. The tanner rolled out of the mud and began rubbing at a scrape on his hand as he sat on the ground. When he realized that he had finally lost everything, the young man began to cry.

**...**

"Sorry," said Ryver. "We had to show the castle guard where you kept the book."

"That's okay," said Eryck. "I don't want either of you to be harmed for a simple book."

Tobin lifted the corner of his mattress to produce a few of the pages that had been torn completely free from the book. "These fell out while they were leaving. I saved them for you, if you want them."

Eryck accepted the pages. "Thank you. There are nice to have, for sentimental reasons if anything else."

"Do you want to go to the tavern for a pint?" asked Ryver. "It might cheer you up."

"No, thank you." Succumbing to emotional exhaustion, Eryck rubbed his face. "I need to get some rest. I haven't been feeling well."

"Alright," said Tobin. "We're going out for a simple pint tonight. We won't come stumbling home like the other time."

"Do you remember the other time?" asked Eryck.

"Not really." Smiling, Tobin tapped his forehead. "I tend to think not remembering is a good thing. It lets me repeatedly discover new things."

Eryck let himself smile. "That's one optimistic way of looking at it. There are a lot of things recently that I'd like to forget."

Tobin leaned forward and patted Eryck on the leg. "Can't help you there mate. It only works if you drink regularly. Ale cannot erase sober thoughts."

"So, I should drink more often?" asked Eryck.

"Exactly," replied Tobin, rising to his feet.

Eryck sat down on his mattress and watched as his friends prepared to leave. "I'll join you guys next time. I'm suspect that I'm going to have a lot more free time from now on."

"We'll hold you to that," said Ryver.

"Ya," added Tobin. "And remind me to remind you to go drinking with us next time."

"Will do," said Eryck.

When the door closed, Eryck laid down on his back. With the shock of the afternoon beginning to wane, he realized that his intuition about the captain's vendetta had proven true; however, what Eryck did not foresee was the degree of the knight's vindictiveness. Not only did the man find a way to hurt him, but the knight hurt him in a way he could have never predicted. Mourning the loss of his books, Eryck curled up on his bed and wept in the dark.

**...**

"Eryck," called Ryver from the window, "come see this."

"What?" replied Eryck from his bed.

"It's snowing."

Lifting his head, Eryck watched the snowflakes float past the window.

Tobin jumped from his bed and opened the door. "I haven't seen snow in years. I cannot remember seeing snow this far south."

Ryver kept his focus on his uninterested friend. "Eryck, you're not interested in snow."

"Should I be?" asked Eryck, rolling over in his bed.

"Not something you see every day."

"No, but it was something I often would read about. I once read about ice so thick that it crushed everything beneath it as it shifted at a snail's pace over the land."

Beginning to shiver, Tobin closed the door. "Where is this ice?"

"It's gone now, but some think it will return. Everything repeats in cycles."

Ryver sat on a stool near Eryck's bed. "Are you this upset about not having tea with Mr. Foryst?"

"I guess I am."

Tobin began to don a simple wool cloak. "Why not asked Mr. Foryst to come to the tavern for a pint. It's not tea, but you guys can talk. Maybe he can find a way to get you something to read."

"The captain has his spies. He would find out and make life difficult for Mr. Foryst. I don't want my friends to be harmed because of me. I must bear the captain's hate alone."

"So, you are just going to spend your days working and sleeping?" asked Tobin.

"What else is there?"

"You're the smartest one here," said Ryver. "You're the smartest person I know. You can outsmart the captain."

Eryck sighed. "Often intelligence is moot in the face of power."

"Come to the tavern tonight. We'll help you brainstorm ideas."

"He's won. I've run out of options."

"If you've run out of options," said Tobin in a more direct tone, "then go find new ones." Tobin knelt by Eryck's mattress. "I may not be as smart as you, but I do know that solutions don't come to those lying about. You have to go out and find them. You may not find exactly what you want, but you may stumble across something useful or different, maybe even better."

Amazed by his friend's advice, Eryck's brow lifted. "That's quite profound, Tobin."

"I have my moments." Tobin patted Eryck on the leg. "How about it? Have a couple pints on us. We'll even order a loaf of bread and some cheese."

Moved by his friend's encouragement, Eryck sat up. "Why not."

Under the lightly falling snow, the three men walked down the tannery road towards the tavern, donned in simple wool cloaks that did not do enough to keep them warm.

Ryver held out his hand in a futile attempt to catch snowflakes. "Too bad it's melting as soon as hits the ground. I'd like to see the land covered in white at least once in my life."

Eryck shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. "Don't worry; I'm sure you will soon enough. We're going to catch our deaths. We should have grabbed some sheepskins."

Tobin retracted his tongue, hoping to taste snow. "We'll be fine. Just drink more ale and you'll stay toasty warm."

Ryver chuckled. "Ale is the solution to all your problems."

"Ale is magic. It makes the pretty girls prettier and all your worries less worrisome."

As Eryck walked behind his two friends, he began to scan the treetops.

Ryver took notice of Eryck's search. "What are you looking for?"

"The white owl."

"Why?" asked Tobin, turning his gaze upward. "Didn't you say before that bad things happen after seeing it?"

"Yes," replied Eryck. "But like you said, I have to look for options in unexpected places."

"Did I say that?"

Eryck smiled. "More or less."

"Guys?" blurted Ryver, coming to an abrupt stop.

As Eryck came to a standstill beside his friends, he gazed upon a deer with fur as white as snow, a stone's throw away. Its large rack of antlers revealed the animal's maturity—and potential danger if it should unexpectedly attack. Well past sundown, Eryck could not tell if the darken eyes of the creature were those of an albino.

"Whoa," commented Tobin softly.

The deer remained where it stood, turning its head slightly as it size up the three young men. Sniffing the air, the animal appeared to be standing its ground in the center of the road.

Ryver began shifting his weight nervously. "What if it charges?"

Eryck stared on in amazement. "Animals only charge if wounded or protecting their young."

"Did you learn that from a book?" asked Tobin.

"No. My father?"

"What about evil beasts?" asked Ryver.

"It's not evil," replied Eryck in a hushed tone. "Evil only lives in the heart of men. That deer is a random product of nature. And sometimes nature gives us beautiful chaos."

"But isn't that the second albino deer of recent?"

"Um." Remembering the recently mounted head of an albino deer in Cerenna's room, Eryck's gaze sharpened on the animal. "I guess it is."

To their relief, the deer calmly stepped away and entered the woods.

Tobin turned to the others. "Is seeing a white deer as ominous as seeing an owl?"

"I don't know," replied Eryck, "but Mr. Foryst thought there was something to the recent animal sightings."

"Let's go." Tobin waved his friends forward. "The boys at the tavern aren't going to believe this."

Thinking of the fate of the first deer, Eryck said. "Don't tell anyone about this."

"Why?" asked Ryver.

"They'll just hunt it down and kill it."

"Lots of people hunt."

"I know," said Eryck, "but the deer already has the odds against it having a white coat. Plus, it's bad luck to have a hand in the killing of an albino."

"Even if we're not the ones who kill it?" asked Tobin.

"Yes. By telling the hunters where to start looking, you will fall under the same curse."

Tobin stopped in the road. "Did you read that in a book?"

"Yes," lied Eryck. "I'm just passing on the warning."

Tobin exchanged a look with Ryver and then shrugged. "Okay. That explains what happened to the guy who snagged the last albino deer."

"Who was that?" asked Eryck.

Ryver gave Eryck a questioning look. "The lieutenant. Didn't you know?"

At a corner table, Eryck sat oblivious to the tavern merriment around him. When a fight broke out over a new prostitute, he looked up uncaringly, only curious to see if there was a risk of the men crashing into his table. As the men were tossed outside, Eryck sipped his ale as his thoughts returned to the extraordinary events of the past few weeks. He wanted to believe that all this was a result of magic—or divine intervention, but life to him was nothing more than a powerful river that every soul had to endure. The lucky ones found themselves deposited along the banks on warm beds of sand while the majority drowned in the torrents of life. Tossing back the last of his ale, Eryck forced himself to swallow the foul tasting swill, nearly choking on the liquid.

Followed by Tobin, Ryver returned from outside and sat next to Eryck, tapping his friend on the shoulder. "Didn't you want to see the fight?"

"I detest violence. I never want to witness it or be part of it ever again."

"Well," said Tobin, taking his seat, "You didn't miss much. It only took two punches." A rosy-cheeked Tobin waved to the daughter of the tavern owner for another round of ale. "I see you finished your second pint. How did you fancy it?"

"I hate it," replied Eryck, staring into the mug. "I'd rather drink water."

"I wouldn't recommend the water here. You'll be guaranteed to get the runs." When the server arrived, Tobin began sliding the fresh mugs of ale to his friends as Ryver paid. "Ale is much safer to drink. Good batch this stuff."

Eryck watched in amazement as Tobin chugged a good portion from his mug. "Do you actually like the taste?"

"Yes. Don't you?"

"No." Eryck sipped from his mug and grimace. "It tastes toxic."

Ryver took a large gulp, wiping froth from his upper lip. "I'd say it tastes like honey."

The barmaid tucked the money into her pocket. "If you don't like ale, I could get you something stronger?"

"How about a book?" asked Eryck.

"A what?"

Eryck huffed loftily. "Nothing, miss. The ale is sufficient. Thank you."

"As you please." When she turned to leave, her buttocks received Tobin's inappropriate affections, who in turned received a playful swap from her serving tray.

Watching his friend rub his shoulder, Eryck smiled, feeling his tensions lessoning slightly from the first two mugs of ale. "Thank you, guys for trying to cheer me up. I don't want either of you to think I'm not appreciative."

"No problem, buddy," said Ryver. "We've been worried about you for days."

"Ya. I'm in a bad spot, but I'll climb out of it eventually."

Tobin lifted his mug in toast. "To better days."

Joining his friends in the toast, Eryck lifted his mug. "To better days."

Clunking their mugs together, the three young men took long swigs of ale, which in turn became a chugging contest.

**...**

The dank smell of urine, excrement, and vomit permanent Eryck's nose, jerking him from sleep. He lifted his face from the floor to discover that he had been lying on stone blocks. Sitting upright, he glanced up at a set of iron bars that made for his prison cell.

"He lives," said a male voice from the darkness.

A surging pain filled Eryck's brain. As he pressed his hands to his temples, Eryck tried to look past the bars, into the shadows. "Where am I?"

"Casterly Rock's dungeon," replied the stranger.

"Why?"

"Same as me: drunkenness."

"What?" asked Eryck in disbelief. "I don't drink. How did I get here?"

"You don't remember?"

"No." Eryck climbed to his knees with one palm pressed firmly to his forehead. When he tried to stand, nauseating warmth surged through him, announcing that he would soon vomit. He spun around just in time to find a wooden bucket that was meant to be his privy and vomited—missing the bucket completely. Dropping to all fours, he moaned, "Gods help me, what have I done?"

The stranger in the darkness chuckled. "Looks like you had a really good time."

Eryck turned away from the foul smells coming from the corner of his cell and crawled closer to the cell bars. As cold sweat ran down his face, collecting on the bottom of his chin, vague memories began to resurface: a door, a library, a punch to the stomach. Eryck lifted his shirt to see the early signs of a bruise taking shape. "What are they going to do to us?"

"Me? I'll be let out in a day or two. All I did was drunkenly pinched an egg or two from the hen house."

"What did I do?" asked Eryck, squinting into the darkness with a furled brow.

The stranger scooted forward until his dirty face came into view. "You truly don't remember?"

"No," replied Eryck, hunched over in pain. "Please tell me."

"You somehow snuck into the castle and professed your love to Cerenna Lannister. You declared it loud enough for everyone in the castle to hear."

Terrified by what the man said, Eryck scurried over to the bucket and began to retch, producing an utmost unpleasant wailing sound.

"Ser Daven is a fair and kind man when compared to the other Lannisters, but something tells me that he won't be so forgiving for what you did."

Eryck sat back, his hands pressed again to his head. "Did I make a racket?"

"_Did I make a racket_?" repeated the stranger, guffawing. "You woke the whole bloody castle from what the guards say."

Large metal hinges squealed painfully when the main dungeon door swung open, followed immediately by heavy footsteps that resonated along the corridor, growing louder as someone approached. Stepping into view with a carried torch, Ser Lavin stopped before Eryck's cell, the flickering light revealing the man's contemptuous eyes and vengeful smile.


	14. The Offer

**14 The Offer**

Sitting on the cell floor, Eryck could feel his fledgling hope evaporate at the sight of the captain's vindictive smile. Placing his hand over his bruised stomach, Eryck vaguely remembered the punch he received from the captain before blacking out on the dungeon floor.

The captain set his torch into a wall holder and then spat into Eryck's cell. "Glad to see you didn't choke to death on your own vomit. It would have been a shame if anything had happened to you."

Eryck glanced to his side to see his cell neighbor returning to the shadows. Defeated, the tanner reluctantly turned to face the captain. "You won't stop until I'm hanging from a noose; will you?"

"I won't stop until you confess to what you have done to my knights, witch."

Pushing himself off the floor, Eryck gripped a prison bar for support. With a heavy sigh, he said, "warlock."

"What?"

"If I possessed magic, which I don't, I would be a warlock, the male equivalent to a witch."

The captain reached through the bars and grabbed Eryck by his shirt, landing a single jab to the young man's already bruised stomach. When Eryck hunched over, the captain pulled the lad hard into the bars, his head making a loud thump against the steel.

When an audible gasp came from the neighboring cell, the captain looked up to see the faint outline of the other prisoner. "What are you looking at?" barked the captain as he let go of Eryck's shirt.

Pain surging through head and body, Eryck collapsed to the floor as he began to retch dryly.

"Unless you plan on confessing, warlock, I'd advise you to keep your mouth shut."

The sound of footsteps announced more visitors, and when Eryck looked up, he found Ser Daven accompanied by a prison guard with a torch. Eryck could feel the immense disappointment displayed in his lordship's eyes. Again reaching for the prison bars for support, Eryck pulled himself up, keeping his head bowed.

Ser Daven sighed at the sight of Eryck and then glanced into the other prisoner's cell. "You're still here, George?"

"Yes, m'lord. Three days now. Let me say again how regretful I am for stealing those eggs. I promise to repay you for the cost at first chance. If it wasn't for my hungry children, I would have never considered such a heinous act."

Subtly shaking his head, Ser Daven said through gritted teeth, "You have no children, George."

"Ah, um...m'lord I must have drank some tainted alcohol. For a second there, I thought I did."

Waving at the man's cell, Ser Daven turned to the prison guard. "Release George."

Shocked by Ser Daven's leniency, the man began to stutter when he spoke. "Thank you...thank you."

"My lord," said the captain. "He just lied to you."

"I know, but he's just a harmless old fool that I've known my whole life. And lately, I've had my share of fools."

Eryck sensed that the disappointment in those final words was directed at him. With welling eyes, the young man said in a soft tone, "I'm sorry, my lord."

But Ser Daven did not respond. The contemplative man waited until the guard had escorted the other prisoner from the dungeon before addressing the young man. "What has happened to you Mr. Leder?"

Eryck looked into the hateful eyes of the captain, knowing that he could never point out his persecutor. Powerless, he wiped away an impending tear. "I'm not sure, my lord. I do not deserve your forgiveness and fully take responsibility of my actions. If you sentence me to the gallows, I will willingly place the noose around my own neck."

"I'm not going to send you to the gallows over drunken foolishness, but I am extremely disappointed in you, Mr. Leder." Sighing heavily, Ser Daven turned to Ser Lavin. "Captain, release Mr. Leder."

"My lord? He broke into the castle and embarrassed Cerenna."

"Yes, but my sister begged me to be lenient. And I can see Mr. Leder's contrition. I suspect he will be punishing himself for quite some time."

Eryck wiped a tear from his cheek. "I don't deserve your mercy, my lord. Thank you."

"Don't thank me. I'd let you rot in here for a month if it wasn't for my sister." Ser Daven paused, his anger still palpable. "Needless to say, you are now forbidden to be seen near Casterly Rock. You are also forbidden to attend the yearly tourney and festival. A Lannister always pays his debts. Consider yours paid."

"Yes, my lord. I understand."

"My lord," said the captain. "I still think he's somehow involved with my lost knights."

"I've heard your theories, captain. He is no murderer; he is no sorcerer. He's just a fool." With a heavy brow, Ser Daven turned away and departed. "I'm done with you, Mr. Leder."

Seething with anger, the captain frantically searched his belt for cell keys, which he had not. Storming off, Ser Lavin barked to guard at the end of the corridor. "Guard, release the prisoner!"

When the young guard hurriedly appeared, he promptly opened the cell and took Eryck by the arm, guiding the staggering young man from his cell.

As they passed the rows of cells, Eryck paused to gather his senses when the captain—who had been pacing at the dungeon entrance—quickly approached and gripped him, tossing the young man against the stone wall. With a loud thud, Eryck's vision blurred as he fell face down onto floor.

The captain then pushed the guard aside as he reached for Eryck, pulling him onto his knees by his hair. "You haven't won!" Disappointed at not triggering an incriminating response, the captain shoved Eryck to the ground and stormed from the dungeon.

The guard aided Eryck to his feet and let the young man gather his senses before leading the tanner up a set of spiral stairs. When they reached the ground level, the guard extinguished his torch and led Eryck outside into the blinding midday sun.

Eryck shielded his eyes as he followed the guard's pull on his other arm across a narrow courtyard. Midway to the servant's gate, he heard a woman's voice.

"Stop," said Myrielle.

Eryck lowered his arm to see the redheaded sister approaching; behind her, Ser Daven and Cerenna stood on a rock path. Seeing Cerenna, returning memories flooded Eryck's mind, causing him to bow his head in shame. He dropped to his knees and began to beg for forgiveness. "My lady, I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I am truly, and humbly, sorry."

"I forgive you," snapped Myrielle. "Stand up, you idiot." As Eryck rose to his feet, Myrielle turned to the guard. "You can go. I'll make sure he exits through the gate."

Turning to Ser Daven in the distance, the guard received an approving nod and departed.

Myrielle held out a small vial of green fluid. "Here; drink this. It's my hangover cure. I figured you would need it after last night's kerfuffle."

Eryck accepted the vial before glancing briefly at a furious Cerenna. He lowered his gaze to the ground. "I deserve poison, not your kindness."

"Maybe it is poison," said Myrielle with a crooked smile.

With unsteady fingers, Eryck pulled the stopper from the vial and swiftly poured the liquid into his mouth, grimacing at the extreme bitter taste. He handed back the empty vial. "Thank you, my lady."

"Mr. Leder, It's a shame my brother has banished you from the castle. I'm actually going to miss you. You quite entertaining in your own way."

"I live to serve, my lady." Eryck stood emotionless, paralyzed by his returning memories.

"That you do."

Wiping away the nauseous sweat from his brow, Eryck asked, "My lady, can you please pass my apologies to your sister?"

"Ahh, no. Do I look like a page boy? Wait here." Myrielle turned and approached her sister.

After a few seconds of busied whispering—and objections from Ser Daven, Cerenna approached Eryck.

As she neared, Eryck dropped to his knees as he prepared to beg for forgiveness.

But before he could speak, Cerenna vehemently cut him off. "Save your apologies, Mr. Leder. Do you know how embarrassing this is? Word is going to get out. There will be no quelling of the stories that will most certainly leak from the servants' lips." Inhaling deeply through her nose, she briefly turned away to wait for her incensed anger to pass. With a pinched brow, she began listing the tanner's offenses. "Using your jester notoriety to lie your way past the guards at the gate, loudly proclaiming me as your princess on the grand staircase, chased by the guards into the library where...where you declared the room to be the center of the universe. Had you not collapsed into a drunken heap, I would have had the guards beat you unconscious. My family can threaten the servants all we want, but this will get out, and I doubt any of this will be forgotten."

Overcome by shame, Eryck kept his head bowed. "My lady, why then did you ask Ser Daven to be lenient with me?"

Clenching her jaw, Cerenna exhaled loudly through her nose, replying, "Letting you rot in the dungeon would be a waste of time, and I would have known you were there. Most importantly, I want you away from Casterly Rock—and out of my life, forever."

Eryck rose slowly to his feet, meeting her gaze. "Since I have been banished from your presence, I would like to correct one thing."

"What?" asked Cerenna, visibly bristling.

"I see more than just a princess. You are smart, brave, dangerous as hell, and yet compassionate to those under you, even to fools who do not deserve it. You are a rare grace in this infinitely cruel world. You are such a rarity that I hope someday you are pronounced queen." Seeing the embarrassment and vexation he had instilled in her, he lowered his eyes, overcome by guilt.

After several deep labored breaths, Cerenna's jaw relaxed. Lifting her chin, she said, "Well, what are you waiting for? You are free to go."

Reluctantly, Eryck turned for the gate. He stared at it, unable to see past the opening. His shack of a home was destroyed, his source of books cut off. With the captain set on destroying him, the tanner realized that nothing awaited him outside the castle walls.

"Go," repeated Cerenna.

After another long moment of hesitation, Eryck turned back to face his ladyship. "May I ask one final question?"

She scowled at him but did not deny the request.

Eryck looked solemnly into her eyes and asked, "May I offer you my soul?"

Unsure how to respond, Cerenna's brow furled with confusion.

"I want to give you my soul," continued Eryck, "like Ser Jagger."

Fury replaced her confusion as the Cerenna stepped forward and slapped Eryck across the face with such force that it caused him to take a step back. "You bastard!"

Ser Daven sprinted forward, calling for his castle guard. Reaching Cerenna, he put a consoling arm around his sister. "What happened?"

"Bastard!" Cerenna stepped forward to strike Eryck again only to be restrained by her brother.

Two guards arrived and gripped the docile tanner by the arms.

"How dare you," said Cerenna.

Ser Daven stepped between Eryck and his sister. "What did he say to you, Cerenna?"

"How dare you," she repeated, peering around her brother.

"Cerenna, what did he say?"

Brushing off her brother's consoling hands, Cerenna took a step back. "That is between us."

Turning to Eryck, Ser Daven said to his guards, "Arrest him; return him to the dungeon."

"No," said Cerenna with some regained composure. "Brother, I may have let my emotions get the best of me. Banish him. That will suffice, so please, just send him away."

Considering his sister's wishes, Ser Daven eventually nodded. "Release him." When the guards did as instructed and took a step back, Ser Daven stepped forward. "Mr. Leder, after witnessing my sister's outburst just now, I'm going to instruct the garrison guards that if you are ever caught on castle grounds or seen approaching my sisters that you should be killed on sight. Do you understand?"

"Yes, my lord." Wiping another tear from his cheek, Eryck gazed at Cerenna one last time.

"Save your bloody apology," she said, anticipating his supplication. "Go now. If you meant everything you said, you will turn without saying a further word and leave immediately."

True to his word, Eryck promptly turned and passed through the servant's gate without looking back. He followed the path to the main road and walked hurriedly for the tannery.

Along the way, he spotted one of the many small trails that led from the road to his former shack in the woods and followed it to his former home. Sitting amongst the rubble, he silently began to mourn. He mourned his home; he mourned the loss of his books; and now he mourned his lost reputation, for everyone would now see him as a lovesick fool, though it to be true.

Later that afternoon, Eryck stumbled out of the forest and headed for the tannery. Coming into view of the open double doors, he could see everyone busily working.

Tobin spotted Eryck and called to the others, all of whom dropped what they were doing to greet Eryck outside.

Seeing the developing bruise on the young man's forehead, Master Behn gave him a cautionary look. "Eryck, are you hurt?"

"No, ser. I mostly have a bad hangover, but someone gave me some medicine, which seems to be helping."

"Laddie, what's up with you? You don't drink." Master Behn gave a stern look to Tobin and Ryver. "You lot said he was sober when you last saw him."

Tobin shrugged. "Compared to everyone else, he was."

Ryver studied Eryck's clothing. "What happened to you? You were sitting with us one moment, praising the virtues of Cerenna Lannister, and the next moment, you were gone. Tobin thought you went outside to piss."

"Um..." Eryck rubbed his tired face. "Everyone will find out eventually, so I might as well tell you. I apparently went to the castle and continued singing the praises Cerenna. The guards threw me in the dungeon until I sobered up."

Master Behn laid a heavy hand on Eryck's shoulder. "My boy, you're lucky they didn't kill you right then and there."

"I'm not sure if my luck is good or bad. Cerenna asked her brother to be lenient towards me. When he released me, he declared his debt for saving his sisters paid, and I'm forever banned from approaching the castle or going to official events where Lannisters may attend."

"Wow," commented Tobin, "Your legend continues to grow."

"What do you mean?" asked Eryck.

"Everyone at the tavern was calling you the_ brave fool_ for all the things you've done the past couple of weeks. Everyone kept buying you ale in exchange for your stories."

Touching his throbbing temple, Eryck moaned. "I vaguely remember that. How much did I drink?"

"Not sure," replied Ryver. "But, it seemed like a lot for someone who hates ale."

"Did I say anything...crazy or scandalous?"

Ryver looked briefly at Tobin, who shook his head. "No. You mostly talked about surviving Ser Jagger and the bandits. People wanted stories from inside the castle, or about the queen, but you kept insisting that there was nothing to tell. The only thing you would say is that the queen's brother, the Kingslayer, was missing a hand, and that you had seen the stump."

"Oh," added Tobin, "you told them that the queen made you sleep next to a lion, but no one believed you."

"It wasn't a full grown lion." Eryck rubbed his neck, combing through returning memories. "It's somewhat of a relief that I didn't spread any lies. One more screw up, and the captain will have my head. I can make you this promise: I'm never going to drink again." Wondering if he still had a job, Eryck swallowed hard as he slowly turned to Master Behn. "Do you want me to go?"

"Why?"

"I'm an embarrassment. And Ser Daven is fond of your tannery."

Master Behn smiled comfortingly. "You've just had a rough couple of weeks; that's all. The next time Ser Daven tours Lannisport and the outskirts, you just stay out of sight."

"Thank you, ser." Eryck reached out to shake Master Ben's hand, but when the broad shouldered man shook hands, Eryck grimace in pain.

"What's wrong?" asked Tobin.

Eryck lifted his shirt to reveal his many bruises.

Ryver whistled in astonishment. "The guards did that?"

"Yep," replied Eryck. "Mostly the captain. He was certain that he would be tightening a noose around my neck. You should have seen the joy in that fiend's face before Ser Daven pardoned me. I don't think he's going to stop until I'm dead."

Master Behn patted Eryck on the back. "I'm putting my money on you. You're much smarter than he is, and you have something that the captain lacks."

"What's that?" asked Eryck.

"Luck, the good kind." replied Master Behn. "My boy, you've been blessed with it. I'd even say that you have a touch of magic in you."


	15. The Answer

**15 The Answer**

Through the apprentice hut window, Tobin frowned out at the blustery weather. As rain slammed against the side of the hut, the silhouettes of the trees seen through the frail, blurry window glass swayed violently in the gusty winds. Turning away from the window, Tobin shuffled to his bed. "If you guys are up for a couple mugs of ale, I am."

From his bed, Ryver peered out from under his forearm. "No way. We'll catch our death. We can go to the tavern tomorrow."

"Eryck, how about you?"

"No, thank you." Eryck lifted his shirt to inspect the yellowing of his bruises. "I've learned my lesson about drinking. It's not for me."

"Quitter," said Tobin with a smile. "I'd rather chop wood than be stuck inside all night. I'm not a skilled sleeper like you."

Ryver rolled onto his side to face the room, propping his head up with his hand. "Eryck, did you sleep this much when you had your shack in the woods?"

"No," replied Eryck. "I would spend my time reading."

"What did you like to read about?" asked Tobin.

"Anything I could get my hands on. I would read scholarly books written by those who are trying to unlock nature's secrets. I would sometimes read about spiritual theories written by monks and priests. Mostly, I liked to read about adventures recorded by ship captains. Their journals often told of strange plants and animals on distant lands. The best journals came with illustrations of the most significant findings."

"See," said Ryver, "just getting you to talk about your shack and your stories brings you to life. Most of the time, you mope around as if you are dying."

"I feel like I'm dying."

"Rebuild your shack," said Tobin. "We'll help you."

"Na. The captain will never stop pursuing me. If he finds me alone in the shack, I'll most certainly vanish from this world. The man could kill me and blame it on a bear, and no one would ever doubt the captain of the castle garrison, especially Ser Daven."

"Find a new and more secluded hiding spot."

Eryck shook his drooping head. "There is no point. If I can't visit the bookbinder, I have no reason to have a shack in the woods."

"If you don't do something soon," said Ryver, "your mood will kill you before the captain does."

Struck by an idea, Tobin sat up. "Why don't you just pack up and go somewhere where the captain won't bother you. Since you like adventures so much, go on one. Travel over the ocean and start a new life."

"Most lands on the other side of the ocean speak different languages."

Shrugging off Eryck's excuse, Tobin said, "You're smart. I bet you could learn a new language rather quickly."

"I don't know," mumbled Eryck. Seeing his friend's concern made him feel like crying. "You see. I'm the type of person who likes to read about great adventures. I don't actually want to partake in any of them."

Tobin's smile turned mischievous. "I know what you need."

Knowing his friend, Eryck moaned as he cupped his face in his hands. "I don't want to know."

"You need a girl," said Tobin. "There is a new girl at the parlor behind the tavern."

"I wouldn't recommend her," said Ryver.

Stunned by the comment, Tobin turned to his friend. "Why not?"

"She's got a bad case of the wearts, and I'm not referring to the toad kind."

"Where?"

Ryver pointed to his backside.

Dumbfounded, Tobin said, "She told me those were pyles."

"You need to visit her in the daytime, my friend."

Eryck rose from his bed and began donning his cloak.

"Where are you going?" asked Ryver.

"To check on my shelter." Eryck began rolling up a sheepskin.

"What? Now?" Tobin rose to his feet, stepping towards the window. "The weather hasn't improved much."

"That's okay," replied Eryck. "The trees will shelter me."

"Do you want us to go with?" asked Tobin.

To escape the conversation, Eryck opened the door swiftly and said over his shoulder. "No, I'm good."

**...**

Eryck's shivering began to subside as he huddled closer to his campfire to warm his fingers. He had successfully propped up some of the scrap lumber to make a simple sidewall shelter that protected him from the wind and rain. With dead branches from beneath a nearby pine for kindling, Eryck had started a decent fire with a couple pieces of scrap wood and fallen tree branches.

His shelter did not shield the light of the fire as well as he would like, but he doubted any stranglers would spot his small campfire in this weather.

Eryck liked his friends, but he liked his solace more. Happily missing yet another discussion about whores, Eryck settled under his heavy sheepskin and listened to the forest. Closing his eyes, the sound of wind and rain mostly filled his ears, but the atmosphere in total had a soothing effect.

When Eryck next opened his eyes, the forest was coated with a thin layer of snow. His fire continued to smolder, but he could feel no heat. He secured his sheepskin about his shoulders as he took in the tranquil scenery.

Sunrise was still minutes away, but the dawn twilight—in combination with the new snow—brightened the forest, making everything as visible as day. Eryck smiled, for he could only think of one thing more majestic that what lay before him.

To his left, the sound of a snapping twig brought Eryck into a crouching position. Turning around, Eryck discovered the albino buck from a few nights prior. Remaining as still as possible so not to scare the creature away, Eryck stared into the red albino eyes, which in turn, had focused on him. The deer slowly stepped forward through the soft snow, stopping less than a stone's throw from Eryck's shelter. The animal then continued past but paused to look back, as if inviting Eryck to follow.

Eryck rose and began weaving through the forest as he followed the deer, which never moved faster than a walk. When the animal paused to look back, Eryck would gaze upon the albino pink eyes and wonder if it saw the world like a human. _Does the snow impress you? _he wondered.

Folding his arms under his sheepskin, Eryck continued to follow the animal along a narrow trail. He knew this trail by heart, knowing from experience that the path led to a lake and even further to uninhabited lands he never dared to venture as a kid. Despite knowing that nothing of interest lie ahead, Eryck continued to follow the deer, for if nothing else, he felt unexplainably compelled to do so.

Off to the right, the soft snap of a fallen tree branch revealed a figure walking through the forest. Alarmed by the stranger, Eryck crouched behind a tree, watching as the man staggered through the forest as if drunk. The deer also looked at the man, who moved in the same direction, but the animal seemed unconcerned. Instead, the deer carried on forward as before through the wintery forest. Eryck sprung forward to catch up with the deer, but his heart quickened when the stranger began drifting closer as they continued in the same general direction.

Sounds to the left revealed two more men walking in the same direction. Glimpsing casually at the new companions, the unfazed deer continued slowly along the trail. Nevertheless, Eryck felt the beginnings of a panic brewing as his muscles began to tighten.

The young man touched the sweat on his forehead as a chilly breeze swept through the forest. Shivering uncontrollably, the sharp sting of the cold seemed to cut through him from head to toe. When he looked down, he found his feet bare and came to a stop. Wiggling his toes, he watched in amazement as the snow fill in the tiny spaces between his digits.

_I'm dreaming,_ he realized. With clarity, all his shivering stopped as the snow beneath his feet began to feel like cool, fine sand. His worry began fade, replaced with curiosity. Knowing that the lake was close, he found the deer looking back, waiting for him. "I'm coming," said Eryck, stepping forward.

The other men continued to stumble through the forest as they funneled closer towards the deer. They walked as if in a trance, not bothering to duck under branches, often stumbling over objects lying on for forest floor. As they walked unencumbered through the trees, the thin layer of snow brushed from the branches coated their bodies, giving them a ghost like appearance.

Seeing the numbers of men increasing, Eryck repeatedly had to remind himself that he was indeed dreaming. When the men drifted closer, he noticed how the snow did not melt on their skin, clinging to their bodies as if they were cold as ice. Eryck caught the glimpse of one man's lifeless grey eyes and assumed him, and all the others, to be walking corpses.

When the group exited the forest, Eryck stepped onto a familiar prairie that was home to a small lake located centrally in a gradual basin. The landscape appeared as he remembered—except for a solitary person by the lakeshore, wearing a hooded white robe. As Eryck followed the deer, descending into the basin, more bodies appeared on the horizon, all walking calmly towards the lake, towards the hooded person.

Eryck stayed close to the deer since the animal gave him the least worry. Free from the forest's shadows, he could see the rotting flesh of the men as they funneled even closer, walking forward in an oblivious, silent procession. The closest man had open wounds on his skin that revealed the muscles in his forearm and teeth through open holes in his cheek. Despite his dream awareness, Eryck's resurging fear began to choke him.

At the lake, some of the men had reached the shoreline where the hooded person stood. As Eryck and his deer escort neared, those men parted, making a pathway for the two to pass. When the pair reached the hooded stranger standing at the water's edge, the deer moved beside the person, circling around to face Eryck.

A slender feminine hand emerged from one of the long white sleeves and petted the deer on the neck. The other arm came up to pull back the hood, revealing Cerenna, her eyes albino pink.

"My lady," gasped Eryck.

All the men then knelt to one knee and bowed to the woman, leaving Eryck standing tall amongst a sea of subservient corpses.

"This is just a dream," he said to reassure himself. Nervously surveying the area, Eryck spotted a bird of prey in the sky. As the bird neared, Eryck recognized it to be the white spotless owl.

The owl swept down and landed with ease onto Cerenna's shoulder, digging its talons through her robe into her flesh. Immediately, her white robe about her shoulder began to stain with blood as her face remained free of emotion. The woman simply continued to stroke the neck of the albino deer beside her.

His heart racing, Eryck asked, "My lady, are you okay?"

Her only response came in form of a faint smile.

"My lady, why am I here?" asked Eryck. "What is happening?"

One of the men near Cerenna stood up, the top of his skull removed, his brain absent. Under the morning sun, the man's head glistened as blood spilled from the empty skull cavity.

When the giant man turned, the Eryck recognized the corpse to be Ser Jagger. Stepping backward, the young man fell over a kneeling body behind him and landed hard on the ground between corpses, subsequently knocking the wind out of him.

The corpse of Ser Jagger leant over Eryck, revealing his dark soulless eyes and said with a breath fouler than rotting flesh, "We're waiting for you."

Eryck awoke with a violent shudder under his shelter in the woods. Gasping for air, Eryck looked about to find the forest free of snow, wet from the evening's storm. Listening between his labored breaths, Eryck heard nothing more that residue water dropping to the forest floor, his exhalations dissipating in the cool morning air.

Troubled by his nightmare, Eryck needed some time for his nerves to settle. Judging the time, he need not rush to work, so he tossed on a few nearby twigs to rekindle his campfire. Ignoring the white smoke created by the moist wood, Eryck remained in his shelter until he had regained his warm—and sanity.

When the fire began to dwindle, Eryck rose to his feet and began walking down the same trail he had travelled in his dream, and within less than an hour, reached the forest edge where he could gaze across the prairie surrounding the small lake. Looking down the gradual slope of land, he could see a large oak tree with a remnant of a rope hanging from the largest branch. As he approached the site, he remembered fondly the times he would swing out on the long rope and splash into the lake with friends.

At the shoreline, Eryck climbed up onto a set of large boulders above the water. Sitting on the one rock, where he often would dry himself on those distant warmer days, the young man stared out over the still water as despair filled his heart.

Unable to hold back his tears, he called out, "What do you want from me?" When no response came, he lowered his head and wept.

Eventually, his tears subsided and the sobbing quelled. He rubbed his puffy eyes and then stared across the lake as he had hundreds of times before, remembering all those youthful ambitions that never came to fruition.

The hoot of an owl caused Eryck to look up. Perched on the branch by the rope remnant, the white owl gazed down at the lad.

"I was wondering when you would show up." Eryck returned his gaze to the water. "Whose turn is it to die?"

When the owl failed to make a sound, Eryck glanced up at it and said, "Fine, keep your secrets, you bastard." Wrapping his arms around his knees, Eryck began rocking back and forth. "Is dying our sole purpose in this life? Are we mere entertainment for some divine being?" With growing anger, Eryck shouted across the lake, "Does our misery amuse you?"

Offended by the blank stare of the bird, Eryck hopped down from the boulder and picked up a small stone. With all his might, he threw the stone at the bird, missing widely.

The owl did not flinch—or blink its eyes. The creature simply hooted as if mocking him.

"Fuck you." Eryck picked up another stone and tossed it only to see it miss wider than the first. The stone plopped into the lake, the ripples dissipating quickly in the still water.

"I'm pathetic," he mumbled before glaring up at the bird. "Just because I'm talking to you, don't think for a minute that I now believe in magic. I don't. Our encounters are nothing more than coincidences." Eryck began pacing the shoreline. "Sure, I have never seen a white owl until I met you, and sure, I could have counted my prior owl sightings on one hand, but this doesn't change anything. I'm sure nature has an explanation for all this."

The owl adjusted itself on the branch and hooted once more.

Sighing, Eryck ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm sure those who study nature's secrets will be able to explain all of this someday. They might even figure out why I'm talking to a bird, why I'm talking to myself."

The owl hooted, almost as if it was partaking in the conversation.

"But will they ever discover why we are here?" Eryck glanced up at the owl. "Or will that secret be forever hidden to those alive?"

The owl began to shift its weight back and forth, its talons continuously gripping the branch.

"If you promise not to tell anyone, I'll admit to you now that I do wish that magic existed in this world. I wish that good outweighed the bad. I wish that we knew the reason why we existed?"

Casually, Eryck picked up a flat rock and skipped it across the surface of the water. "I bet our feeble minds aren't even close to understanding it. We probably don't even know the proper questions that we should be asking."

The owl hooted.

"So, you agree? Can you do me one tiny favor? If magic exists in this world, show me. The evidence does not have to be big. Just show me something that is beyond the realm of nature."

When the owl failed to respond, Eryck again climbed up onto the bolder at the water's edge and began gazing down through the surface at the tiny fish. Everything he saw and touched was tied to this world; everything around him belonged to nature and perhaps someday, would be understood. As he took notice of his reflection, he saw for the first time something that was not bound to this world: his existence. He himself was proof of magic.

With events becoming clearer, Eryck had the answer he had been seeking. Chuckling, he looked up at the owl as he stood and said, "Thank you, Mr. Owl. It's been a pleasure."

Back at the tannery, Eryck assisted Ryver as they pulled a heavy cowhide from the liming bath. After they draped the hide over the wooden stump for defatting, Eryck asked, "Is Tobin taking the next delivery of goat skins to the bookbinder?

"No. It's me," replied Ryver. "I'm going this afternoon. Why?"

"I have a favor to ask."


	16. The Response

_Author's note: I apologize if the last couple chapters caused some confusion. The last two chapters were intended to inject some mystery and set the mood for the final act of the story. The events that will unfold in the final act need setting up so that the transition in the story doesn't feel rushed and unreasonable. _

_This chapter too was written with mystery, but this will be more evident. However, the answer posed by "the letter" will be revealed in the following chapter. Hint: It has to do with the "Moon Story" Eryck shared with the Lannisters in chapter 3._

_After this chapter, the story will enter the final act, which turned out to be much bigger than I had ever anticipated (four chapters), so I hope I've prepared everyone appropriately. Thank you as always for reading. Stu_

**16 The Response**

With darkness falling outside, Ryver entered the apprentice hut, red-faced and panting. Having returned from the bookbinder, he held up a small burlap sack. "I got it."

Eryck sat up on his bed. "That took long enough. Did Mr. Foryst make you tea?"

"No," replied Ryver, moving to the tiny table in the apprentice hut. "I stopped at the tavern for a quick pint. I have everything though."

"Great." Eryck rose to his feet and joined Ryver at the table where his friend had set the sack. Eryck opened the small sack and produced a small sheet of curled paper, a feather quill, and a small vial of black ink with a rubber stopper.

"There's a wooden stand to hold the ink inside the sack. The bookbinder said you'd need it."

"I do." Eryck shook the bag until the small wooden block fell out. He next set the vial into the special carved block of wood and proceeded to secure the curling paper. "I need something to hold the paper down."

Ryver searched about until he spotted a small rock on the floor, used to prop the door open on warmer days. "Here."

"Thanks, but I need another."

Ryver stepped outside and soon returned with second small rock. Brushing off the dried dirt, he passed the stone to Eryck.

With the paper ready, Eryck inspected the quill. "Tobin, can I borrow your knife? I need to sharpen the point."

"Sure." A sleepy Tobin rose from his bed and produced his small utility knife from his belt.

Pulling the solitary candle on the table closer, Eryck began shaping the end of the quill with delicate cuts.

Watching from over Eryck's shoulder, Ryver asked, "Why don't you wait till morning when you'll have sunlight?"

"I have enough light. I don't have much to write. Do we have any flat scrap wood or something else to test the quill on?"

The three young men glanced about the meager hut until Tobin pointed to three birch tree logs waiting to be thrown onto the fire. "Will birch bark work?"

Eryck smiled. "Yes. I don't need anything bigger than a leaf."

Tobin went to the logs and peeled off an already curling section of smooth birch bark. He passed it to Eryck and then watched over his friend's shoulder as Eryck removed the stopper from the small jar. "I've never seen anyone write before," said Tobin.

"Never?" Eryck glanced over his shoulder. "Really?"

"Ya."

Ryver positioned himself over Eryck's other shoulder. "I've only seen someone write a couple times."

Eryck spread his fingers wide to hold the bark flat. "Well, I hope I don't disappoint you. I don't have much to write." Eryck dipped the end of the quill into the ink and proceeded to write his name on the piece of bark. "Good," he said, admiring his work.

"How long does it take for the ink to dry?" asked Tobin.

"Just a few minutes."

"Can you show me my name written out like that?"

"Sure, Tobin." Eryck proceeded to write out his friends' names below his own. Passing the bark to Tobin, he said, "I hope I spelled it correctly."

"Beats me." Tobin smiled. "I like how it looks."

Returning to the blank sheet of paper, Eryck took a deep breath and began writing his message. Before his friends realized it, Eryck had finished. Setting down the quill, he sat back to admire his work.

Tobin leaned closer to inspect the paper. "Is that it?"

"Yep."

"You went to all that trouble for two words?"

"Yep."

Ryver eyed his friend. "You could have just shouted that to her."

"Maybe," said Eryck. "If the guards didn't kill before I got close enough. Anyway, this message will mean more to her if she receives in written form."

"Seems like a lot of trouble just to write one, two, three...eight letters."

Ryver chuckled. "That's pretty good, Tobin. You didn't even use your fingers to count."

"Fuck you," said the jolly young man, chuckling at himself.

"Eryck, how do you plan to deliver it?" asked Ryver. "Without official business, I doubt the guards will even let any of us get close to the castle."

Eryck blew across the paper. "Isn't the farmer's market tomorrow?"

"I think so," replied Ryver.

"Bessie the cook frequents the market. I'll see if she'll secretly deliver it for me." Eryck set down the paper, securing it with the two rocks to allow more drying. He then began inspecting the few objects on the table as if looking for something particular. "I now need a stamp."

"A what?" asked Tobin.

"Something to press into the candle wax, like the head from a ring."

Ryver produced a coin from his pocket. "How about his?"

Eryck inspected it closely. "Maybe. Since I'm using candle wax rather than sealing wax, I don't think the detail will show. I just need something simple.

"Use the butt of my knife," said Tobin.

Eryck looked at the butt of the knife and nodded. "Perfect," he said, setting aside the knife. He then carefully began turning the paper into a square by folding in the corners, overlapping the final two corners slightly in the center.

"Wait," said Ryver. "Aren't you going to sign it?"

"No. If the captain intercepts it, I don't want him to be able to link this to me."

"How will Cerenna know for sure that it's from you?"

"Bessie will tell her, I hope." After carefully realigning the last edge of the paper to form a simple square, Eryck took the candle and poured a coin-sized drop of melted wax onto the center of the paper, hastily pressing the butt of the knife into the wax. The seal quickly solidified, binding the wax to the paper fibers. He brushed off excess wax droplets that had spilled from the candle before holding up his letter. Smiling faintly, he declared, "There, it's done."

Tobin returned to his bed. "And what do you hope to accomplish with those two words?"

Eryck stared at the letter in his hand and sighed. "I'm hoping that Cerenna will take me on a grand adventure."

**...**

With Master Behn's permission, Eryck left for the market after completing his morning tasks at the tannery. Hoping to spot Bessie before she reached the farmer's market, Eryck paced nervously along the road that led directly from market to the castle. So preoccupied with his thoughts, Eryck had not even notice when the castle cook approached.

"Eryck? Is that you?" Bessie smiled warmly at the lad. "I was hoping to see you again someday."

Eryck returned her smile. "And I you, Bessie. How are you?"

"Good. Nice day to visit the market, but I suspect there will be slim pickings. This weather is making it difficult on us cooks."

Finding himself tongue tied, Eryck nervously held out his hand towards her basket. "May I carry that for you?"

"Thank you, deery." Bessie handed over her basket as she cautiously studied her friend. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Eryck forced a smile. "All is good."

Like a knowing mother, Bessie lifted her chin slightly. "What is it?"

Gnawing his lip, Eryck sighed heavily. "I have a special favor to ask."

"Ask away, my boy. We won't know if I can help you until you ask."

"Okay." Eryck produced the sealed letter from his pocket. "Can you deliver this to Cerenna?"

Bessie's smiled vanished as she stared at the letter. "I'm not sure I can. If something should go wrong, I don't want to be responsible for your death."

"It's not a love letter if that's what you were thinking. I didn't even sign my name. You can say you found it on the road if anyone should ask." Eryck rotated the letter so that Bessie could see that the correspondence was free from identifying markings. "See."

"Letters are dangerous, Eryck."

"I know." Eryck swallowed nervously, debating if he should reveal the contents. "There are only had two words within, and I'm certain that only Cerenna will understand their meaning."

"What? Just two words?"

Eryck leaned close to the cook and whispered them into her ear.

"That's it?" she asked, appearing even more confused.

"Yes. Cerenna will know what they mean."

Bessie held out her hand. "Okay. But I'm going to give it to Cerenna's handmaiden. I trust Niena, and I will let her ultimately decide."

Eryck smiled as he handed over the letter. "Thank you, Bessie. You'll never know how much this means to me."

"From your expression, I have somewhat of an idea."

"If I don't smell too much like the tannery, I would still like to carry your basket while you shop."

"You don't smell bad, you fool. And I would enjoy your company." Bessie took hold of Eryck's arm. "So tell me; what have you been up to since your banishment?"

**...**

After passing the letter to Bessie, the long days stretched into longer weeks until a distraught Eryck went to the farmer's market in search of the cook. When he found her, Bessie assured him that the handmaiden had delivered his message to Cerenna—according to the handmaiden herself.

When the wait for Cerenna's response grew to months, Eryck's mood darkened further. With conscious effort—and much coxing from his friends, the tanner had to be dragged from bed, his work the only activity in his life. Had he not a strenuousness job and vigilant friends, Master Behn thought the lad would have wasted away.

Occasionally, a new rumor of another missing knight would make it to Eryck, and each time, Eryck's mood would worsen. To the bewilderment of those around him, the young tanner would be heard saying 'lucky bastard' or 'why him' upon receiving the news. When one particular dimwitted knight disappeared, Eryck's rage became so uncontrollable that he took to an axe and chopped wood until his hands were bloody.

Eryck began visiting the lake at least once a week to ask the wind, 'what have I done wrong?' He never received a response; nor did the owl ever revisit. Sitting on the boulder at the water's edge, his thoughts would drift between Cerenna and his favorite books that he had read, but with each trip to the lake, his mind would begin to ponder how long it would take for the water to fill his lungs. Yet somehow, he kept returning to the tannery to de-hair, de-fat, and de-lime another animal skin, into another day, into another week.

Then one day, while dehairing a large oxskin, he heard Master Behn call his name. Eryck looked up to find the handmaiden, Niena, standing before the open set of double doors. He set down his dehairing blade and proceeded towards the woman as she turned and calmly walked away from the tannery.

When the two were well beyond anyone's ears, the woman stopped and faced Eryck, her expression tense with worry. She inhaled, but failed to speak. Her eyes diverted to the ground with a sigh.

"What?" asked Eryck. "Did Cerenna send you?"

"Yes, Mr. Leder."

"What is her message?"

"It pains me to say this..." The handmaiden raised a white handkerchief to her mouth as her face became flush with emotion. "Cerenna is offering you a day of companionship in exchange for your soul." Her fingers tightening around the cloth as her eyes narrowed, fearing Eryck's response. "Do you accept?"

"Yes," replied Eryck without hesitation.

The handmaiden winced with disappointment.

"What?" asked Eryck.

"Why are throwing your life away?"

"I'm not. She is giving me a chance to actually live."

The handmaiden stepped closer. "You are essentially committing suicide."

"No," retorted Eryck. "No I'm not. As is, I'm already a walking corpse waiting to be put in the ground. I get up day after day to turn dead animal hides into leather by scraping off their hair and fat, and bathing them in nasty concoctions of lime and manure and urine. Is my life a life worth keeping?"

"You are smart. You won't be an apprentice forever."

"I'll still be a tanner after my apprenticeship. It does not matter if I leave and go to a different village, I can only be a tanner. It's too late for me to change professions. Masters never take those past their 20s into apprenticeships."

"I'm certain you could find a different occupation to match your intellect," the handmaiden pleaded.

"What occupations? Without an apprenticeship, I'm left with manual labor, tedious jobs with high turnover rates, the kind of work that sends people to even earlier graves. Or would you prefer to see me become a sailor? We both know well enough that many a sailor never return home with so many ships becoming lost at sea. I'd rather die at the hands of Cerenna, aiding her studies, rather than drown alone in the cold ocean."

The handmaiden turned her gaze away. "I cannot believe that someone of your intelligence is speaking like this."

"Intelligence?" Eryck clenched his jaw, pausing to restrain his anger. "Intelligence is meaningless in a world controlled by corruption and power. You know what? I envy my friends and their ignorance. If I could erase my memories and become like them, I would. I wish I could be giddy at the news of a fresh keg of ale. I wish that I could lay with a woman and not be bothered by the consequences. I wish I saw things growing on my genitals as a minor inconvenience and not something sad and disgusting. I wish I could be like everybody else." Seeing his friends gathering under the open double doors of the tannery, Eryck turned away and looked Niena in the eyes. "Ignorance is truly bliss."

"I know you love her, but don't be blinded by love. Cerenna is not the angel you think she is."

"I know," said Eryck as he began to pace. "I know who she is. She's insane, obsessed, and a murderer. No one's perfect. Look at me; I've got a maester's mind trapped in a peasant's body."

"There you go; travel to the Citadel and become a maester."

Eryck shook his head. "They normally take noblemen sons. I would need a letter of recommendation from Ser Daven. Do you think he'd give me one after what I did?"

The handmaiden's gaze softened, as did her voice. "There are nice girls who would appreciate you as a husband. You could settle down after your apprenticeship is done."

Shaking his head slowly, Eryck sighed. "I use to think that, but the more books I read, more distant that prospect became. When I meet girls in the tavern and listened to their meaningless gossip or hear about their fortunes told by charlatan seers who read the stars in the night, I think, this is not worth it. I can now see past the lust."

"How is your arrangement with Cerenna any different?" asked the handmaiden.

"It's not different. But I'll get to enjoy her intelligence along with her body. I can talk about how the moon affects the ocean, and she will understand. I can reference tales about dragons, and she will know their names. No other woman can do this."

"I know you miss your reading, but you will find another source of books. What if I start smuggling you books from the library? Would you reconsider?"

"I wouldn't want you to do something so dangerous; the captain would eventually find out. He takes great joy in tormenting me. I occasionally see him in the tavern, watching me, waiting for me to screw up."

"The man cannot pursue you forever. Perhaps soon you can return to your arrangement with the binder. You can find a girl with a good heart and share those books with her. Teach her to read, and someday, you will have the Cerenna you want: a girl who shares your love of books, who isn't maniacal and obsessed with magic. With patience, perhaps fate will set everything right."

"Fate?" Eryck briefly pressed his hand to his forehead as if the word caused him pain. "Fate cursed me with all those bloody books. It's probably a good thing that the captain took them away from me."

"You're talking nonsense now. Your mood is in a temporary low point. I know it must hurt not to have access to books, but things will get better."

"How can you know my pain?"

Stepping forward, the handmaiden's nostrils flared as she poked the young man in the chest with her bony finger. "I see it in your eyes. I can imagine the look on your face when you read you first sentence, when you began to sound out words. Who do you think taught Myrielle and Cerenna to read? I saw the same twinkle in their eyes as they ran to the library with the hunger to understand nature and magic. If I had my way, I'd teach every child to read and let them have access to all the grand libraries. But this is not the world we live in. Is it?" With a calming breath, Niena relaxed her hand and placed it over Eryck's heart. "Fate gave you secret access to their world. You have the mind to embrace knowledge and excel, so with a little more patience, you will get through this lull in your life and do great things. I just know it."

Eryck caressed the hand laid upon his heart as he considered the handmaiden's words. Removing Niena's hand from his chest, he let it slip away. "No. I was not meant to become literate. I was not meant to be anything more than a tanner. I'm tired, and this life has no more to offer."

With sharpened eyes, the handmaiden continued to stare at the young man until he felt compelled to look away.

Keeping his eyes diverted, Eryck brushed at the ox hairs drying across his hands. "So, what are the details to our arrangement? I cannot approach the castle. The guards have orders to kill me on site of the castle grounds."

Hesitant with her reply, the handmaiden swallowed and said, "Two weeks from today, Ser Daven will leave for business up north. On the following day of his departure, Cerenna will send a squire with a horse to collect you. You are to ride to the castle and enter through the main gate."

"Main gate? They'll kill—"

"Cerenna will post her personal guards at the gate that evening."

Eryck looked questioningly at the handmaiden. "Why the main gate?"

"For your sacrifice, she is bestowing you honored titled status. Her servants will treat you as they would a knight or person of title. You will spend one full day with her; at which time, you will fulfill your part of the agreement."

"A whole day?"

"Yes, a full day to spend with her as you please," replied the handmaiden. "She is treating you special because you are not blinded by arrogance and lust like her prior companions. Knowing what is at stake, she expects you to be faithful subordinate when her research commences."

"Will you be there?"

The handmaiden subtly shook her head. "I cannot. Not when it is you. I'll be escorting Myrielle on a separate trip south to Highgarden."

Eryck swallowed. "I see. I will wait for the squire to bring me a horse, two weeks and one day from today.

Stepping forward, Niena reached for Eryck's hand. "Don't throw your life away on her. I may love her as my own daughter, but she is not worth giving your life. Please reconsider?"

"No. I wanted more out of life, but we both know that I am bound by birth to never to be more than a simple laborer. Nothing I can do will ever change my status. Life inside that castle may be terrifying and off-putting, but I was unfortunately poisoned by my experience, poisoned by hope, teased that life could be much better had I been born someone else."

"Then you also know that if you take away the glitter and gold, you find the same misery of unrequited love, not to mention their soul crushing responsibilities that come with title. Not all of them enjoy being lords. Ser Daven does not particularly like being the Warden of the West."

"I no longer care. I had no choice about my birth; I have no name; and I have no real control of my future. The only thing I can control in this cruel world is my death. I accept Cerenna's offer. My soul, what little value there is to it, is hers to take."

Flushed with anger, the handmaiden released her grip, pushing Eryck's hand away. "I was wrong. You are not special. You are a _fool!_"

With solemn eyes, Eryck spoke almost in a whisper, "That's what they tell me."

The handmaiden turned and walked away, leaving Eryck alone on the road.

When the young tanner turned around, he found his friends still standing under the set of double doors to the tannery. He began walking towards them, his heart racing, his heart flooded with conflicting emotions. Seeing their inquisitive faces, Eryck then realized that he needed one last, good lie.


	17. The Letter

**17 The Letter**

Sitting shirtless on a small stool, Eryck stared at his trembling hands. He bunched his hands into fists until they were as pale as his face in an attempt to steady them, but when he spread his fingers, his hands shook as before.

Across the room, Ryver took a break from staring out the window to study his friend. "If this trip you are taking is so dangerous, why don't you tell them you can't do it? Didn't you say it was voluntary?"

"Ya," added Tobin. "You should see yourself in a mirror. You're a mess."

"No, I want to go," replied Eryck. "It was such an honor to be asked that I could never back out now."

Tobin reclined on his bed, leaning against the wall of the apprentice hut. "Can you give us a hint? It's killing us to not know what this trip is about."

"I can't," replied Eryck with a forced smile. "All I can say is that I have to travel far away. It may be a while before we meet again."

"Is this mission dangerous?" asked Ryver. "You can at least tell us this."

"Yes."

Ryver's brow became heavy. "But you are sure we'll meet again."

"Yes," replied Eryck. "Someday."

The sound of a horse's whinny turned their heads. Ryver glanced out the open window to see a squire approaching on horseback. "The squire is here. He's pulling a second horse behind him."

Eryck jumped to his feet and exited the hut, followed by his two friends. When the squire came upon the three young men, he asked for Mr. Leder. Eryck presented himself and then received the reigns to the second horse. Without further instruction, the squire turned his horse and slowly rode away.

Ryver looked up into the eyes of the magnificent beast. "Do remember know how to ride this thing?"

Eryck nodded. "I remember the basics."

The horse raised and lowered his head as if sensing Eryck's despair. Eryck hushed the animal and held up an open hand before its nose. Once the horse became still, Eryck stroke the creature's nose and whispered, "Fear not my friend. Only me. Only me."

"What do you mean by _only me_?" asked Tobin.

"Nothing," replied Eryck as he guided the horse to a nearby tree to which he tied the reins. "I just wanted to tell the animal that he need not worry. This trip is no threat to a horse."

Tobin walked to the front of the animal. "Do you think the horse understands?"

"Yes." Eryck petted the animal's neck. "Animals are much smarter than humans."

Ryver chuckled. "Can they read and write?"

"No," replied Eryck, but they do not kill in the name of God or for profit. They don't force others of their kind into classes and make them do things they don't want to do. They simply live, which seems pretty smart to me. I wouldn't mind switching places with them."

"What about field mice?" asked Tobin. "It seems that their purpose in life is to be food to predatory birds. Would you trade your life to be a field mouse?"

Eryck gazed into the eyes of the horse. "I don't know. But we're all prey to someone or something in this world. The worms and maggots eventually consume us all in the end. Maybe they are the chosen ones." Eryck turned for the hut. "I need to finish dressing."

Tobin and Ryver followed Eryck into the hut and watched their friend dab a tiny amount of scented oil onto his hands before he began rubbing it over his skin.

Eryck smelled his hands and then took a step towards Tobin. "Is the smell strong?"

Tobin leaned close to Eryck's shoulder and sniffed. "No."

"Good."

"Why are you doing that?" asked Ryver. "Are you trying to smell pretty for the horse?"

"Um..." Eryck gnawed his lip as he reached for his clean shirt. Pulling the simple garment over his head, he replied, "For what I have to do, I am not supposed to smell like a tanner. I have to wash and be presentable, as if I'm a castle servant."

"Ah," commented Tobin. "That's why you stopped working a couple days ago."

"Yes," replied Eryck, his voice so soft that he was barely audible.

"Are you going to say goodbye to Master Behn?" asked Ryver.

"I said my farewells to him last night." Eryck rubbed his facial stubble. "I should have gone into the village and had this shaven."

"Why bother," commented Tobin. "You don't have much compared to other guys, and besides, if you travelling, having stubble is preferable."

Holding his hands out, Eryck watched as his fingers continue to tremble. "Perhaps."

Ryver placed a hand on his friends shoulder. "Are you sure you are well?"

"Ya. I'm just a little nervous." Swallowing, Eryck grabbed his wool cloak and turned for the door. "It's time."

Trailing the others out the door, Tobin asked. "Aren't you taking anything else?"

"Nope." Eryck wrapped his cloak over his shoulders, leaving the hood down. He glanced up at the misty sky, wishing to see the veiled stars. Sighing, he said, "I'll be taken care of once I get to where I'm going. You hold onto my things until I get back."

"Alright." Tobin shook Eryck's hand and pulled him in closer for a pat on the shoulder.

Ryver did the same. "You be careful. I know you're scared, but I'm sure you'll succeed whatever it is you have to do."

"Thanks, guys." Eryck untied the horse's reins and began to escort the creature across the tannery yard onto the main road. When the three young men neared the bend, Eryck felt comfortable enough to mount the animal. Remembering his training from Myrielle, he swung him up into the saddle in one swift motion.

Ryver stepped forward and shook Eryck's hand once more. "Promise we'll meet again."

"Promise," said Eryck. "Someday." With a hard lump in his throat, Eryck put his horse in motion with the gentle squeezing of his heels and watched his friends fade from view as the horse followed the bend in the road.

Eryck travelled for several minutes under the encroaching dusk when he lent forward in his saddle and began to weep. Sobbing uncontrollably, Eryck rocked slowly back in forth atop the horse as the animal continued to amble forward on its own, ignoring the emotional outburst occurring on its back. Eryck reached into his cloak pocket and pulled out a rag to blow his nose. He dabbed futilely at his eyes as the tears flow endlessly, and despite the lack of input from the rider, the horse continued unabatedly towards the castle, seemingly knowing the final destination.

About to succumb to the despair, Eryck heard the familiar hoot of an owl. He looked up into the darkened tree canopy to discover the white owl gazing down upon him. Eryck gazed back in wonder, his sobbing subsiding. "I was wondering if you were going to make an appearance."

As horse and rider passed the tree, the owl hooted just before taking flight, landing a short distance down the road in another tree. Then up ahead, the albino deer stepped from the shadows. When Eryck passed, the animal remained at the side of the road, seemingly bowing its head.

"You too?" With a mad chuckle, Eryck gazed over his shoulder at the deer that had begun to follow. "I guess this is meant to be, that I've made the correct decision."

Up above, the owl hooted, as if responding directly to the young man.

Folding over his ragged handkerchief, Eryck gazed up at the bird. "Are you going to escort me to hell or just to Casterly Rock?" Eryck blew his nose as he considered the idea, not having given it much thought prior. "Volunteering my life, I'm must be condemning myself to such a fate."

The owl bobbed its head repeatedly before taking flight to a different tree further ahead.

"Doesn't matter if you guide me or not, I'm sure there's no getting lost once dead." Eryck dabbed his eyes again before pulling up his hood, his body sweat giving bite to the chilly night air.

Without having touched the reins, horse and rider soon approached the castle gate. The tall castle walls rose up out of the fog as puddles of rainwater reflected the ambient light coming from various windows. As he approached the lowered drawbridge, Eryck wondered if he should hail the guards above the gate when the tall doors beneath began to swing open.

Eryck crossed the bridge and passed through the main gate to find the castle courtyard nearly empty except for a male and female servant. The squire who the tanner had just met secured the horse by its bridle as a young female servant carrying a fire torch curtsied, both greeting Eryck with the honoree title of 'my lord'. Dismounting, Eryck passed the reins to the squire who proceeded to lead the horse away.

The young servant woman approached the large doors and pushed one open, the hinges squeaking under their heavy strain. "My lord, if you would please follow me, I will take you to our ladyship."

Eryck hesitated to go through the main door. Instead, he turned to gaze up into the foggy night sky. The air was still, and through the patchy fog that lingered over the castle, he could make out the faint silhouette of the moon. His eyes drifted down to discover no movement by any guards atop the wall. And perched above the gate, the white owl faced him, watching intently.

"Ser?" queried the young woman.

Eryck turned to find the servant standing under the doorway. With growing unease, he passed through the door and stopped within a few steps to gaze at the great hall. With faint moonlight slipping through the various windows, the interior seemed to glow eerily as foreboding shadows filled the many nooks and crannies. Guided by the woman carrying the torch, Eryck began climbing the grand staircase illuminated by wall candles, which were lit up to Cerenna's level, the subsequent floors hidden in foreboding darkness.

They continued climbing, passing the floor where the library resided, and ascended the last level of illuminated stairs. When they reached Cerenna's room, the servant girl turned to Eryck and said, "Knock when you ready, my lord." She bowed and departed.

Wide eyed, Eryck stared at door, finding it slightly ajar, the abundant light within illuminating one side of the wooden frame. Listening intently, no sounds except for his labored breathing could be heard inside the still castle.

Eryck thought he would be sick as every muscle in his body trembled at the thought of what ultimately awaited him. His heart raced from terror-induced adrenaline. However, to own amazement, the young man found that his feelings for the woman on the other side of the door still had a faint hold on him, undeterred by the fear.

Rubbing his numb face, Eryck's resolution wavered as exhaustion weighed down his body, his soul. All he wanted was to lie down and sleep, to awake as a new man, or perhaps to never wake again. Ever since becoming the fool, his thoughts revolved around the woman inside that room. He could turn and walk away, perhaps returning humbly to his old life where his banishment would spare him from any looks of disappointment—his shame only beholden to him. On the other hand, he truly wanted to see Cerenna again. Their meeting did not have to be sexual. He would be overjoyed to talk to her one more time, even if the breaking of their arrangement might anger her. Even if she yelled at him, he wanted to hear her voice.

Wiping his clammy hands against his cloak, Eryck raised a trembling hand and knocked on the door.

"Come in," replied Cerenna.

Eryck pushed the door open to find the room brightly lit by numerous candles, whose flickering created various faint shadows that seemed to dance on every wall. He found Cerenna staring out a window, wearing an intimate gown of white silk and exuberant lace. With the intent of politely rescinding their arrangement, Eryck could only bring himself to say, "My lady..."

The woman turned towards Eryck, her face solemn. In her hands, she tightly held the paper containing his written message. Unfolding the letter, she held it up to reveal the words _I believe_. Clearing her throat, she asked, "In what? In what do you believe?"

"In magic," replied Eryck without hesitation.

Cerenna quickly stepped forward and kissed Eryck on the lips. She paused for a second to witness the shock in his eyes when she kissed him again, pressing her lips more passionately against his.

Paralyzed, Eryck focused on the taste of her mouth as he followed her motions. Finding her lips soft and warm, tasting like strawberry wine, he thought their mouths to be the perfect match. Kissing the woman of his dreams, his head began to spin as the world began to fade away.

When her tongue gently began probing inside his lips, Eryck's lust quickly overtook his fear. He touched her tongue with his own and began to feel the heat from deep within his body spread to his fingers and toes. He placed his steady hands upon her shapely hips, taking notice of her soft warmth through the thin silk.

When Cerenna's hands came to rest on his sides, he felt her pull his body tighter against hers. His hands drifted up from her hips, and with growing confidence, he caressed one of her breasts. The weighted softness sent a shiver through his body. He wanted to be with her more than life itself. His hand further caressed her breast as his lips moved in synchronization with hers, their tongues touching between gasps for air.

His caressing hand then detected the touch of flesh, and soon felt the firmness of her nipple. Turning his head down, he gazed upon her exposed breast that had slipped from her loose gown. Naturally drawn to the newly exposed part of her body, he leant down and suckled her nipple, her flesh tasting salty sweet.

Longing for her kiss, he returned to her mouth to find her kisses even more pleasing than before. When her petting hand grabbed him through his trousers, his erection throbbed as never before, his body tingling from her simple touch. He tore at his own clothes, needing to be free of them, needing to feel her warm body against his, the cool night air on his back.

Letting his trousers fall to the floor, bunching around his ankles, his hands returned to her, pawing at her breasts, caressing her face. When he felt her hand squeeze his rigid member, he reached down in search of her course pubic hair, combing it until he felt emanating moisture. Every muscle in his body tingled with pleasure as his finger lightly pressed deeper into the wetness, releasing an unmistakable moan of approval from Cerenna as her hot breath grazed his ear.

Fighting his disbelief, he kicked off his boots and trousers as his hands pawed at Cerenna's body, his mouth continuously seeking out hers. Guided by primal instinct, Eryck pressed his waist against hers until his engorged penis slid into the space between her thighs. He moved it slowly back and forth, tantalized by the pubic hair and silk as they drifted over the top of his thin skin. _This cannot be really happening, _he thought.

Cerenna reached down and took hold of Eryck, pulling him by his penis back to her bed. Sitting on the edge, she pulled him closer, guiding him inside her as he instinctively pressed his hips to hers.

Eryck lost all his other senses as his mind focused on the intense warmth that had engulfed his penis. He gazed into her eyes barely able to breath. When her legs wrap around him, Eryck pressed deeper and his body began to quiver. He tried to remain still, to enjoy every last second—to stop time if he could—but he had lost control as his hips began to thrust rhythmically. Unable to stop himself, his body moved faster and faster until all his muscles tensed amidst his uncontrolled orgasm, pressing his hips against her as he grunted, collapsing upon her with labored breaths. He laid his forehead upon the bed and whisper between gasps of air, "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For not lasting longer."

Cerenna laughed, which made her muscles tighten, pushing his softening penis from her vagina.

"What?" asked Eryck as he rolled off to the side.

She turned to him and smiled warmly. "Have you ever been with a girl?"

"Yes, my lady. I just don't want to disappoi—"

"Stop." Putting her finger to his lips, she said, "Then you should know that this isn't some kind of physical contest where we have to experience pleasure at the same time, or even at the same intensity." She caressed his face, staring into his eyes for a moment before giving him a passionate kiss.

Eryck smiled. "I have to admit that I don't have much experience. And I..." His eyes fell to the empty space between them on the bed.

"What?" she asked, lifting his chin.

"I may not have known the nicest girls, my lady. I mean they were nice, but…the situation was not idea."

"You think my options were ideal?" Cerenna sat up. "They weren't. And from this point on, you are no longer allowed to address me as _my lady_."

Eryck sat up. "How do I address you?"

"Cerenna if you want. For the next day, you are my lover, my special knight. I am yours. You are mine." She kissed him, taking notice of his eyes. "You've been crying."

Eryck's gaze drifted down as he frowned.

Using the tip of her finger, she again lifted his chin. "It's okay to cry. You made it here; you did not run away; and you believe. You have put your faith in me. All this makes you my bravest knight." She stood beside the bed and began removing her disheveled gown, tossing the silk onto a nearby chair.

With mouth agape, Eryck gazed in amazement at her body.

Wearing nothing but her smile, Cerenna moved closer to Eryck. She gripped his hands and pressed them against her breasts. "I like how you look at me."

Eryck inhaled deeply as the warmth of her body seemed to pass through his hands into his blood. When she let her hands fell to her sides, he slid his hands to her hips, noting the smoothness of her flesh. "What do you mean?"

"My knights always look at me as if I was a conquest. Not like you."

"I don't deserve you, my lady."

Cerenna slapped Eryck's hand. "What did I tell you about addressing me?"

"Sorry."

Cerenna slapped his hand again. "And I don't want you apologizing all night. I chose to be with you. And you know what?" She took his hand and pressed his fingers against her wet vulva. "You make me excited. No man has ever willingly given me his soul. Those prior knights did not know that I would hold them to their empty promises when they crawled into my bed. You are the first to give himself to me, and you have no idea what that is doing my body and mind. Don't think you are weaseling your way between my legs. I _want _you. Do you understand?"

Eryck stood from the bed and began caressing her face, brushing her lips with his thumb. He leaned in and kissed her with such longing that they both felt his penis begin stiffen ever so slightly.

Cerenna reached down and took hold. "That was fast."

"It's all you. Maybe I'm affected by your magic, but you could not be more perfect. You are my princess."

"My prior knights called me a crazy bitch."

Eryck shook his head. "You are not crazy. Eccentric perhaps. There is no other woman in the world that can compare to you."

"You're a one of a kind too." She gave him a long kiss. When their lips finally parted, she said, "I had a special bath prepared for us." Pulling Eryck away from the bed, she glanced over her shoulder with a hungry smile. "Come, my sweet; let's play in the water."


	18. The Bond

**18 The Bond**

In the corner of her vast bedroom, Cerenna and Eryck moved to a large brass bathtub full of steaming water. Floating atop, rose petals drifted towards the edges of the tub. Cerenna entered first, followed by Eryck, who sighed heartily as he sank below the water, facing her.

"I hope it's not too hot?" asked Cerenna. "I always have them fill it with the hottest water possible and then wait for it to cool."

"It's perfect," replied Eryck. "I can easily say that this is the hottest bath I've ever experienced. I'm sorr—" Biting his lip, Eryck paused and then asked, "Is my tanner smell strong?"

Smiling, Cerenna subtly shook her head. "Your smell is nice. Did you apply a scented oil?"

"Yes," replied Eryck. "Did I over do it?"

"No, but I have something else you might like." Cerenna reached for a glass bottle beside the tub. Pouring a small amount of lotion onto her hand, she began to rub it over Eryck's chest. She motioned him to stand and then applied the lather to his legs, working up between his legs, gently lathering his genitals until the first signs of stimulation appeared. She motioned him to sit and then reached again for the bottle. "Hold out our hand."

"For what?"

"Don't you want to wash me?" With a luring smile, Cerenna heaved up a breast. "Or do you prefer dirty girls?"

Eryck's already large smile began to stretch to his ears.

She grabbed him beneath the water and tugged on his already swollen penis. "If that's the case, I can tell you about the knight who was so well endowed that I could barely accommodate him. I had to hold on to his shaft so he would not hurt me. I ended up stroking the outside part as he tried to hold still."

His smiling waning, Eryck focused on the water.

"What's wrong?" asked Cerenna.

"Nothing."

"Don't you enjoy dirty talk?"

"I do," lied Eryck as he lifted his gaze. "But you don't need to say anything, or even wear anything exotic to make you more attractive. You don't need to do anything special. You only need to exist to drive me crazy." He leaned forward, kissing her long and slow.

When their lips parted, she rested her forehead against his, their noses touching. "Thank you," she whispered. "Now give me a good lather."

With his smile returning, Eryck held out his hand to receive a plentiful amount of body soap. Lathering it between his palms, he first applied the soap to her breasts and admired how her skin gleamed in the candle light. He then asked her to stand and began applying the lather to the rest of her body, taking in every freckle and mole as he slowly worked his way from her neck to her legs, begging her to turn slowly.

He then sat against the tub and asked her to lean back against him. Wrapping his arms around her, he planted a soft kiss upon her neck. "Casterly Rock seems overly quiet tonight."

"My brother and sister are off visiting. Our handmaiden, Niena, went with Myrielle to Highgarden."

Eryck planted a second kiss on the other side of her neck. "Shouldn't there be more servants and guards."

"I gave most the guards the night off and kept my most trusted servants to attend to us." Cerenna propped her feet up on the edge of the tub. "They will bring us a specially prepared dinner after our bath."

"I'm not hungry." Eryck palmed a handful of water onto Cerenna's chest and watched the streams run between and around her breasts.

"We have a long day ahead of us. You need to keep your energy."

"I'd be happy to spend my remaining hours holding you here."

Cerenna looked warmly over her shoulder. "Liar. The erection pressing into my back says otherwise."

With amused exuberance, Eryck exhaled joyously as his hand came up to caress one of her breasts, and with a gentle touch, he began to squeeze a nipple. With each pinch, he watched with longing as it stiffened, puffing slightly.

Leaning forward, Cerenna reached behind and took hold of his erect shaft. She squeezed it, sending a pleasurable shiver through his body. She easily judged that his lust was now in control as his meticulous hands slowed, his breaths deepening. She turned around and kissed him. "Stand up."

"Why?"

With a sly smile, she said, "Don't argue with me."

Eryck stood, and before he could again ask why, he watched her take him in her mouth. The hot sensation almost caused his knees to buckle. Speechless, shivers surged through his body since he found the new sensation overwhelming and soon had to pull away. "Wait, wait."

"What's wrong? Don't you like it?"

"Yes, but I'd rather kiss you," he said in an attempt to buy himself time. He offered her his hands and helped her to her feet. Joyfully, he began kissing her, his tongue lightly probing her lips.

Wrapping her fingers firmly around his penis, Cerenna could tell from his faint body tremors that he was at her mercy. She broke their kiss before releasing him. "Darling, it's not going to work." She turned her back to him and leant over, gripping the edge of the tub.

At the site of her presenting herself, Eryck promptly inched forward to mount her. After his second failed attempt at penetration, he felt her hand reach between her legs and guide him inside. Losing his self-control, his hips began thrusting rapidly until he quickly reached orgasm, every muscle in his body tightening.

The rapid loss of control seemed to excite her as she squealed with excitement, peering over her shoulder.

Though his lust had been fed, he continued to hold onto her hips, not wanting to be separated from her, but when he became flaccid, he loosened his hold as his penis slipped free. "Sorry," he said as he descended into the water.

Cerenna sat into the water with a disapproving look. "Why do you keep saying that?"

"I want you to feel pleasure too."

"Why do you think I'm not?"

Looking away, Eryck shrugged. "It was too quick."

"We are different, we experience things differently. I'm enjoying myself, and when I need you to do something special, I will let you know."

"Alright," said Eryck in a softer tone, lost in his post-coital glow.

"Let us soak for a while more and then move to the bed. I'll rub your back muscles as the servants deliver dinner."

"I'd like that," replied Eryck.

"_Sorry_," huffed Cerenna, repeating his words. First time I've ever heard anyone complain about an easy orgasm. Would you rather have many experiences or one large climatic end?"

Eryck prepared to give a flippant answer but paused. After some thought, he replied, "One big one at the end."

Cerenna's brow furled with suspicion. "Why?"

"I like that feeling when the lust clouds the mind, when time stands still and all your worries go away. To be free of thought eliminates restraints; that is what I enjoy most. Afterward, as the pleasurable feelings fade, all my worries rush back to me."

"Interesting. So now, at this moment, during the calm, how do you feel?"

"Relaxed, despite what awaits me. The feeling of being accepted by someone else is also soothing to the soul. But ultimately, I'd rather be lost in that feeling. And if I cannot be lost in pleasure, I would then prefer to see you happy. I would rather see your lust quenched, your dreams reached. As you are giving yourself to me, I am freely giving myself to you and hope your magic is successful."

Sliding herself closer, Cerenna kissed him and smiled. "Thank you again."

Returning her smile, he said, "I love you."

Before he could react, Cerenna's hand slapped Eryck hard across the face. "Don't! Do not spoil this. What we have is perfect, so don't go saying words that could destroy everything."

Rubbing his face, Eryck gazed back with flashes of light still in his peripheral vision. "I'm sorry, my lady."

Looking away, Cerenna closed her eyes, appearing as if she had been the one slapped. "I'm sorry." Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes. "I'm sorry. I should not have struck you."

"It's okay, my—"

"Cerenna." She reached for both his hands and planted kisses upon them. "Please call me Cerenna. Can we still be friends?"

"Yes..., Cerenna." Saying her name made him smile. "That's all I ever wanted."

"Good. Then we should be good friends, forever."

Eryck's smile waivered slightly. "Forever?"

"I don't see why not," replied Cerenna the corner of her mouth twisting up. She stood from the bath water. "Now, let's move to the bed before they start bringing in dinner." Stepping from the tub, she picked up a towel, letting it unfold in her hand as she offered it to Eryck. "Could you do me a favor and dry me off?"

With an approving smile, Eryck rose out of the water.

On the bed a short time later, Cerenna was rubbing the tension out of Eryck's back muscles when she heard the door to her room close. She parted curtains to her giant four-post bed for a quick inspection and announce, "Dinner is ready."

Eryck exited the bed to see Cerenna walking nude to a small table set up before her hearth, its fire crackling with fresh wood. "Shouldn't we dress?"

"Why?"

"The air is chilly tonight."

"If I cover up, you won't be able to see me. You can dress if you like."

Remaining nude, Eryck smiled as he approached the table, which had been abundantly stacked with food. Astounded by all the fixings, his gaze ultimately returned to Cerenna, whose body seemed to glow in the firelight. "I don't want you to catch cold."

"The fire is quite warm, so don't fret." Cerenna grabbed a fresh loaf of bread and tore it in half, tossing the larger half to Eryck. "I had them cook you a meal fit for a king."

Eryck lightly squeezed the bread and found it still radiating heat from the oven. "I can't eat this much."

"No one can. However, I did not know your favorite foods, so I had them make everything."

Eryck bit into the bread and moaned with pleasure. Having been weighed down by dread for days, he had skipped many meals; however, here in her bedroom, his hunger had somehow returned. He sat and promptly transferred some honey-glazed ham to his plate and promptly took a large bite. Chewing on the large succulent piece of meat, he scooped some seasoned potatoes to his plate.

Though his appetite had returned, Eryck paced himself so not to become sick, for the terror that had gone dormant remained just in reach. As he chewed slowly, he watched as the light from the hearth danced over Cerenna's skin. His eyes drifted up and over her shoulder to the mounted albino deer head hanging on the wall. _Will you be greeting me on the other side?_ he thought.

Cerenna and Eryck began to discuss mundane topics, commenting on the weather and simple village gossip. However, despite the fine food and pleasant conversation, the tension in the air did not waiver. Eryck began to sample the other various dishes and desserts directly with his spoon, skipping his plate entirely. Following his queue, Cerenna too began grazing the numerous dishes, focusing on the deserts.

When he sampled the vanilla pudding, he found that he dared not take another bite. He sat back in his chair and gazed warmly at Cerenna, noticing how her shoulders had hunched forward. "Your cold. You should put on clothes before you become ill."

"I'm good. We have an agreement." Her eyes flitted to the bed. "Are you ready for another go?"

Eryck frowned. "You don't have to go to such extremes for me. You're not my whore. You are my..."

"Your what?" asked Cerenna.

"Nothing. It's silly."

Rising from her chair, Cerenna circled behind Eryck and wrapped her arms lovingly over his shoulders, kissing him on the side of the neck. "Tell me; please."

Eryck ran his fingers over the goose bumps on her arm, studying the fine hairs illuminated by the firelight. "You're my princess."

"And you're my knight."

"Niena called me a fool for coming here."

Cerenna kissed his neck a second time. "She doesn't understand. That is all."

Rising from his chair, Eryck kissed her long and slow, but before his body could react, his fear caused him to stop. He looked at her with welling eyes.

"Well, if we are going to pace ourselves," said Cerenna offering Eryck her hand, "let me show you something."

Accepting her hand, Eryck followed Cerenna to a corner of the room where she pulled back a wall curtain, revealing a collection of books that filled a tall, narrow bookshelf. As she moved some of the lit candles closer, Eryck began to peruse the books. With improved lighting, he could see that all the books had old worn spines. One particularly old book lay on its side, the spine long disintegrated.

"This is my private collection," commented Cerenna as she lit more candles.

"You should have them rebinded." Eryck gestured to the books. "May I look at them?"

"Yes."

Eryck carefully opened the oldest book to discover an unfamiliar language. Studying the strange lettering, he could not distinguish the origin. "Is this a dead language?"

"Yes." Cerenna reached past him and turned over the adjoining page. "I found a different book that had dual translations inside. Using that, I was able to decipher this one. It has taken me years."

"What is it about?"

Cerenna leaned on his shoulder and whispered in his ear, "Magic."

Eryck slowly closed the text. "Are all these books about magic?"

"No. Some are history. Some books were written in lands now conquered, documentations now forbidden to be read and talked about. I have preserved them so that we have more than just a victor's point of view of history. And some of these books are about the study of nature. And a few are simply about pleasure."

Eryck glanced over his shoulder. "Pleasure?"

"Let me show you." Cerenna pulled a thin book from the shelf and passed it to Eryck.

When Eryck opened it, he discovered delicate drawings of nude figures posing in intimate acts. Turning to a different page, the book revealed various detailed drawings of female breasts of different shapes and sizes. Eryck took notice of how the nipples differed greatly, the areolas varying even more.

"What do you think?" asked Cerenna.

"Um...who created this book?"

"I'm not sure. Some sailor sold it to a book trader at the market in Lannisport. The dealer, who knows my love for rare books, then sold it to me." Cerenna reached past him and turned to a page filled with various penises drawn in various states. Look, some of the genitalia had the skin removed from the tip.

Eryck began to turn the page, but stopped to look closer. "I heard stories that some cultures removed the skin. I didn't think it true."

"Yes."

"Have you see—"

Cerenna pressed her body against Eryck, pulling his chin towards her. "You were going to ask me if I had ever seen a penis with the skin removed?" She smiled and gave him a peck of a kiss. "No."

"I didn't mean to pry."

"You can ask me anything."

He turned to another section where the artist had drawn various acts of intercourse. As his eyes drifted over each image, his body began to react. He thought it silly how something as simple as penned illustrations could affect him, but they did. He turned the page to find that the artist had drawn couples of the same sex in intimate positions. Turning to the next page, he asked, "Why do you have this book?"

"I originally bought the book for my study of body, but I grew to enjoy it, simply paging through it...when I'm alone." Cerenna pressed he hip against Eryck so that her pubic hair brushed his skin.

He took notice of her warmth, her softness. He could even distinguish where one of her nipples pressed into his back. He also thought it silly how a part of the human body, so simple and small, could affect him, but it did. He closed the book, turned to her, and began kissing her softly.

Of all the acts of intimacy, he enjoyed kissing her the most. He found the touch of her tongue tantalizing, and the softness of her lips telling. He felt immune to the world as long as their lips touched. But he also felt an incredible hunger to be inside her. He guided her to the bed and followed her up upon the mattress. Seeking out her mouth, he came to rest between her legs. With having to break their kiss, his intense excitement allowed him to penetrate her slowly without assistance.

Moving his hips slowly, he tried to pace himself but had to pull out in an attempt to prolong the experience. Gently suckling her breasts, he waited for his nerves to quell before he returned to her heavenly mouth. He penetrated her more easily than before and now found it easier to pace his movements without the fear of losing control.

The intense heat he felt around his penis began to draw away his attention from her mouth. He gasped for air, exhaling heavily on her neck as he pushed his hips tighter against her. Recognizing the warning signs, Eryck pulled out and scooted away. As he waited for his excitement to dampen, he watched Cerenna's breasts heave with deep breaths.

She smiled and asked, "Is there something wrong?"

"No. I'm trying to pace myself."

"If that is what you want. Just tell me if you want me to do anything."

Eryck's attention drifted to her pubic hairs. He ran his hands slowly up her thighs until his fingertips grazed the bristly hairs. Exploring the wetter area, he contemplated putting his mouth against her pubic region as he had heard done by others, but felt unsure. Instead, he slid a finger inside her.

When Cerenna let out an approving moan, Eryck's animalistic need to be inside her became fervid. He mounted her and felt her legs wrap around him. Only able to kiss her briefly, he breathing increased has he pressed his hips into her. Surrendering to the sensations, Eryck's movements quickened. He knew that he would not be able to stop himself—his movements not his own—when every muscle in his body tightened. He groaned loudly as his hips pressed down during his ejaculation.

With each breath, he felt his entire body begin to relax as he came to rest upon her. His penis throbbed in her vagina, softening with each pulse. Gasping for air, he turned his head away to inhale the cool night air, his sweat immediately sending a chill over his body.

With his thoughts immediately becoming clearer, he now felt a special bond with this woman. It had nothing to do with the sex. They had become friends. And even though she would forever remain his superior, he could be open with her, as she could be with him. With this new bond, his heart unexpected tore open, pouring out all his accumulated grief. With a gasp, he tried to restrain his wail, but it was futile as tears burst from his eyes. He sobbed uncontrollably in Cerenna's arms, weeping into her pillow.

Embracing him, Cerenna whispered in his ear, "Let it out. Let it out."

Eryck continued to wail as his body convulsed between gasps for air. He shifted off her and came to lie on his side, turned away from her. When her arm came over to embrace him, he reached for her hand and held it as he continued to cry.

Between staggered breaths, his body would shiver, so Cerenna reached for the blankets bundled up against the footboard and pulled them over their bodies. Sliding a pillow under his head, Cerenna positioned herself more comfortably so she could hold him.

With a strained voice, Eryck said, "I'm sorry for being such a coward."

"Coward? Are you going to run away?"

"No."

Cerenna brushed the hair from his forehead. "Then you are not a coward. It's normal to cry. Few men would dare to do what you are about to do for me."

"Most would think I'm insane for doing so."

"Well, they don't understand magic like we do." Cerenna kissed his shoulder. "The world will someday thank you for your sacrifice."

Holding her arm tight to his chest, Eryck shut his eyes as she snuggled against him. Appreciating the shared body heat, his shivering began to subside as he settled under her loving embrace and calmly drifted to sleep.


	19. The Friendship

**19 The Friendship**

When Eryck awoke, he sat up bed to find Cerenna next to him reading by candlelight. The room had darkened with many of the ambient candles having burnt out.

She touched his shoulder. "How do you feel?"

"I'm well, my la—." Eryck cleared his throat. "Cerenna, how long was I out?"

"About an hour."

"Please don't let me sleep. I don't want to waste any of my remaining hours."

"I was going to wake you soon. I was not about to let you sleep much longer."

Eryck's bladder caused him to leap from the bed. "I need to relieve myself."

Cerenna pointed to the corner. "Chamber pot is over there, on the floor."

He swiftly moved to the corner and urinated. Carefully setting the pot back on the floor, he returned the lid. When he turned around, he saw his ladyship approaching, still nude.

"My turn." Sliding the pot slightly from the wall, Cerenna removed the lid and then squatted over the opening.

Eryck realized that he was staring and turned away. "Sorry."

Cerenna giggled. "You can watch if you want."

Smiling, Eryck shook his head as he wandered over to the dining table for a drink of water.

Cerenna joined him at the table and fetched her unfinished glass of strawberry wine. "The servants should come soon and take this away. I'll have them bring new candles." Tossing back the last of her wine, she asked, "Anything you want them to bring?"

"No." Eryck gazed apathetically at the food. Discovering a plate of peeled orange slices, Eryck sampled one and found it delightful. "Where do these come from?"

"From across the ocean, Essos or some island off the south of the continent. I think some farmers in Westeros are trying to grow them over here, south of the capital, but I suspect the change in climate will spoil their attempt."

Eryck bit into another slice. "Have you ever been across the ocean?"

"No, but I want to." Cerenna refilled her wine glass. "Do you want some wine? It may help you relax."

"No. As long as I'm with you, I want to be fully aware of my senses."

"As you please." Cerenna reached for an orange slice. "Have you ever been across the ocean?"

Eryck smiled at the question. "No. The farthest I've ever travelled was to King's Landing with Myrielle and you." Sampling another orange slice, he thought of the much safer travels he took in his mind. "The books written by ship captains were my favorite to read. Their descriptions and illustrations of distant lands left me in awe."

Cerenna turned and headed for her bookshelf. "I have some books about foreign lands over here." She paused to gesture at a shelf near Eryck with several unlit candles. "Move some of those candles to the nightstands."

Eryck did as instructed and then crawled back onto the bed next to Cerenna where she had begun to flip through a large book. He scooted closer to her so that their skin touched when he saw an illustration of the white owl that had been haunting him. "That's a northern owl."

"Yes. This whole book is about everything far north, beyond the wall that protects us."

"Is there something special about this book?"

"Yes. The traveler extensively documented his exploration. He not only wrote about the different wildlife and vegetation, but he also documented the magic. Supposedly, dark magic flourishes in the northern lands."

"Do you ever plan to go up there to study it?"

Cerenna shook her head. "It's too dangerous. Not only are the inhabitants unfriendly, the magic is contradictory to mine. It's what I hope to stop someday. Unfortunately, that day will soon be upon us. I just hope I'm ready."

Studying her expression, Eryck could easily see her concern. He pressed his shoulder against hers and said, "I'm sure you will."

She smiled at him as she turned the page. As they progressed through the book, she described the folklore behind some of the different creatures illustrated within. She shared with Eryck the tales of large wolfs and giant men; she explained how dark magic flourished in the shadows of the north.

Later, as they perused a second book, servants came in to clear the food from the table before replenishing the water and the wine. They efficiently tidied the room, finishing their duties by replacing the many burnt out candles on various shelves and tables. Eryck wondered if the servants knew his identity—or if they knew why he was there—or that he would not be leaving on his own two feet.

After the last of the servants exited, Cerenna closed the book on her lap and brought forth another from the stack she had transferred to the bed. Her fingers drifted over the embossed letters on the goatskin cover.

Eryck read the title and turned to her with an arched brow. "I've read this one. You had it rebounded early this summer. It's about war strategy."

"Yes." Cerenna smiled. "I was hoping that you had read it." She passed the book to him.

Eryck opened the cover and began turning the pages. "I have to admit that I found much of it dull since it focused on battlefield tactics." He turned to the middle of the book and gazed again upon illustrated battle maps. "Quite boring if you are not a knight."

"Do you remember it?"

"Yes," replied Eryck. "It was an easy read, easy to remember. War is not that complicated. It's just sanctioned murder with a few tactics and defensive positioning."

With a soft sigh, Cerenna gazed warmly at Eryck.

"What?"

"You'd make a great battle field commander."

"No I wouldn't. I don't know anything about fighting."

"I'm not talking about fighting; I'm talking about leading. It's easy to find men to throw into the fray, but finding thoughtful leaders is hard. I bet you would be very successful."

Ignoring the complement, Eryck flipped to the back of the book and smiled. "I have to admit that these later mythical chapters about the dragons and undead were fun to read."

Did you read the whole book?"

"Yes, of course."

"Do you believe in dragons?" she asked, continuing to study his expression.

Eryck shrugged. "Maybe they existed at one time. I once saw a supposed dragon bone dug up by a farmer. It was so big that he had to use a horse cart to move it. To be honest, it hardly looked like a bone. I wondered if it could have been a fallen tree that somehow was preserved in the soil."

"They're back."

"Who?"

"The dragons," replied Cerenna. "Three have been spotted."

"Have you seen them?"

"No. But reliable witnesses have claimed to have seen them."

"I'm not sure if I'd want to witness one. I'd probably end up in its belly."

"Far up north, the undead have been witnessed too." Clutching his hand, Cerenna stared into Eryck's eyes. "Do you believe me?"

Eryck squeezed her hand and swallowed. "Yes." He reached up and touched her face, caressing her cheek as his thumb brushed her lips. He gazed into her eyes and said, "It's very believable. More improbable than dragons is you sharing your bed with me, but here I am. It wouldn't surprise me that it was your beauty that resurrected the dead and that your fiery kisses awoke the dragons."

Smiling, Cerenna leaned in and gave Eryck a long kiss. Their lips remained locked as they pushed the books aside and began to paw at each other's bodies. Lying side by side, Eryck focused on her kisses and soon became lost to the world. Eventually Cerenna's hand took a firm hold on his erection, which drew other bodily hungers to mind. She began stroking him, sending pulses of pleasure through his body. Within a couple minutes, he could take no more and had to become one with her. He sat up and began repositioning himself between her thighs.

"Wait," she said holding up a hand. She crawled out from under him and opened her nightstand drawer, producing a small jar with a small pour spout. She poured a small amount of liquid into the palm of her hand and then proceeded to lie against her pillow, spreading her legs. "Come."

Eryck scooted forward. "What's that?"

"Oil. My healer makes it."

"What does it do?"

Cerenna grabbed his erection with her oiled hand and began spreading the lubricating substance over the skin. "It fights the soreness I sometimes feel after long sessions of lovemaking." Her hand moved to her vulva as she wiped off the excess oil, wiping the final remnants onto the sheets. Lying back against her pillow, she nodded to Eryck to proceed.

When she guided him inside, he found the experience no different than before, but the intense heat of her body made him pause and collect his senses. "Is the oil safe," he asked, trying to divert his thoughts.

"Very safe."

Eryck dared not move, feeling as if he had already stepped up to the line of no return. To distract himself, he asked, "Do all women need the oil?"

"No. Like I said, everyone is different." She cupped his face and kissed him before letting her head fall onto her pillow. For several seconds, she gleefully watched him struggle to remain in control. She smiled at him. "You're going to have to start moving sometime."

Eryck guffawed before shutting his eyes. "Don't make me laugh. If I start moving, I won't be able to stop."

"Aw poor baby, you'll have to suffer another orgasm. I feel bad for you." She pushed herself up and kissed him so hard that it caused him to open his eyes. She then slapped him on the ass. "Giddy up"

When her hips wiggled beneath him, his blood rose to boil as his facial flush spread about his shoulders. "Does my princess command me to proceed?"

"She does."

Lowering his upper torso upon her, he slowly began to move his hips, and the sounds that emanated from Cerenna only urged him to quicken his pace. Though he thought he would lose control, he did not, for he unexpectedly found restraint as he focused on her vocal reactions. Lasting longer than he thought imaginable, relief came when she urged him to let it happen. His pace quickened, and he soon felt every muscle tightened as he grunted uncontrollably before collapsing upon her.

As Eryck caught his breath, Cerenna ran her fingertips up and down his back, whispering in his ear, "Good boy."

Smiling, Eryck backed onto his knees and then kissed her. Gazing at her face, he noticed a chilling sweat—mostly his—that caused her chest to glisten. When countless goose bumps began to appear, he shifted to the side and pulled the blankets over their bodies. There they lay in each other's arms while the candles around them burnt out one by one when Cerenna slowly succumbed to sleep. And as she slept, the hoot of a distant owl sounded, the call drifting through the nearby open window. When the owl hooted again, Eryck graciously thought, _Thank you._

Having drifted asleep, Eryck awoke to morning light and the smell of breakfast. He found that the bed curtains had been drawn as servants outside noisily attended to the room. Peering through a crack in the curtains, he watched as the servants finished setting up breakfast as other servants across the room busily replaced the cool water in the bathtub with fresh, steaming water.

When the last servant departed, Eryck drew back the curtain. "That smells good."

Wearing a long robe, Cerenna turned to him. "Good, you're awake. I hope you don't mind that I let you sleep a couple hours."

"I don't mind." Eryck rose from the bed and searched for his undergarments amongst his pile of clothes.

"Here. It's chilly this morning." Cerenna approached with a robe similar to her own.

Eryck slid into the garment and let her tie the cloth belt in the front. When she was done, he lifted her chin and kissed her.

Taking his hand, Cerenna pulled him to the table. "Eat up. We'll take a bath afterward."

Eryck sat and began scooping scrambled eggs to his plate. He followed that portion with fried potatoes and bacon. With the return of his appetite, he ate almost completely free of the nauseating feeling wrought by his fear. Shoving in a large bite of potatoes, he watched as the fork still trembled in his hands.

"What do you want to do today?" asked Cerenna. "We can wander the castle since my family is away."

"We can do whatever you want," mumbled Eryck, chewing on a thick piece of bacon.

"This day belongs to you. We can go to the library."

Eryck shook his head. "Your library here in your bedroom is plenty; besides, I'm not really in the mood to read anyway."

"Very well." Gazing at her guest, Cerenna said, "I like to see that."

Eryck looked up from his breakfast. "What?"

"You, smiling."

Touching his face, Eryck's smile grew. Shrugging, he said, "I'm more relaxed, I guess.

The two friends enjoyed a drawn out breakfast, discussing their favorite books before moving to the hot bath where they rested for a long while. Eventually, Cerenna's hands began exploring, easily bringing forth Eryck's predictable response.

This time when she asked him to stand, he did not resist when she took him in her mouth. Finding the sensation different—yet very pleasurable, he thought it strange how it caused one of his legs to twitch. And as with all new sensations, the new feeling brought him to a quick climax, causing his body to convulse as his hands pressed tightly against his hips.

Taking deep calming breaths, Eryck sat into the tub, this time resting against Cerenna. With his thoughts unfortunately becoming clear, he now found it difficult to smile, so he simply held of her hand and shut his eyes. There he remained, enjoying her company until their fingers began to prune.

Exiting the tub, they moved to the bed after toweling off to peruse more books and to share stories.

"Thirsty?" asked Cerenna. "My strawberry wine is delightful."

Gnawing his lip, Eryck debated drinking alcohol on this solemn day. Shaking his head, he asked, "Do you have tea?"

"Yes." Hopping from the bed, Cerenna donned a robe and peered outside her door, calling to a waiting servant for tea.

A few minutes, after Cerenna had returned to bed with her refilled glass of wine, a servant entered the room with tea tray, setting the service upon the table. After receiving orders for lunch, the servant added more wood to the hearth before departing.

Cerenna left the bed to move the tea tray to Eryck's bedside. "Do you want milk and honey in your tea?"

"Yes please." As Cerenna prepared his cup, Eryck laid his head upon one of the many pillows, sniffing the heavenly scent of Cerenna's hair imprinted within. A strong wind surged through the open bedroom window and swayed the bed curtains. Chilled, Eryck pulled the smooth bedding over his body as the few remaining candles danced in the breeze. Focusing on Cerenna, he watched as stray strands of her blonde hair floated in the stirred air. Her robe had fallen open and the reflected sunlight shone directly on her body. His eyes drifted up from her breasts to her smile as an overwhelming joy surged through him, releasing a single tear that ran down his cheek.

With Cerenna back at his side, he joyously watched her turn the pages of her book as she casually sipped wine and shared certain highlights from each chapter. When he finished his tea, he set he teacup on the bedside table. Not announcing his intentions, he took Cerenna's wine glass from her and set it by his empty teacup. Lastly, he took her book from her hands and carefully set the text on the floor. As she watched in earnest, Eryck pulled away the bedding to expose her body before positioning himself between her legs.

Wanting very much to give her pleasure, Eryck ran his fingers through her coarse pubic hair. He touched her vulva, running his fingertip along the loose skin when he detected a couple small wearts. Pausing briefly to inspect them, he assumed a filthy knight had passed them to her. A year ago, the discovery would have saddened him, or even repulsed him, but on this day, he found that he no longer cared. He had no right to judge her. In addition, he had come to understand her; he admired her for who she was. He gleefully continued exploring her body when he noticed that her hips had begun to wiggle from his touch. He slipped his finger inside to an approving moan. His heart may have not been racing, but it pumped vigorously, thumping against his chest.

He then did something he never considered doing: he tasted her. The sour taste of her vulva did not taste like heaven as his friends said it would, but it was not off putting. In fact, it quickened his pulse. He returned for a second tasted, pinching part of the loose skin between his lips. Licking upward, he became lost in the act as he pushed his tongue deeper it the wetness. He proceeded to lick more and more when he felt a tap on his head. He looked up from between her legs to find her staring at him, discerningly.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"I'm trying to give you an orgasm. I want to return the favor you gave me in the tub."

"Haven't you done this before?"

Confused, Eryck glanced at her vulva briefly and then to her. "Um, I must confess no. What am I doing wrong?"

Cerenna smiled. "For one, you don't go about it like a stray mutt lacking up spilled gravy. Explore all you like, but you only need to focus on one part." She reached down with both hands to part her pubic hair above her vulva. Using her fingertip, she pointed out her clitoris. "Feel the tiny lump? You may even see it. This is all you have to concern yourself with."

Eryck eagerly looked close at the spot, gently running his finger over the lump.

"And don't go about it as if polishing bronze with your tongue. Use a light touch."

"How light," asked Eryck.

After a moment of thought, she replied. "Pretend that you are licking off the morning dew from the petals of a rose."

With those words, Eryck proceeded to move his tongue in gentle circles around her clitoris, imagining the spot to be a tiny rose. He probed and kissed, even using his mouth to apply the gentlest of suction. He assumed his actions correct, for her hips shifted and wiggled as her hand took a firm hold of his scalp. He quickly recognized the hints passed through her hand as she guided him to her climax. As her back began to arch, Eryck felt some of his scalp hairs pull free amongst her tightening grip. Undeterred, he continued to move his tongue in the same method that had minutes prior drawn the strongest reaction, causing her orgasm to grow in intensity. As her body began to scoot away from Eryck, he slid forward in an attempt to keep his mouth on her vulva.

She let out a feverish groan as her hand pushed against Eryck's forehead. "Stop-stop-stop."

Watching her twist in the midst of her orgasm, Eryck smiled at the sight. When she became still, Eryck moved between her legs and planted a warm kiss upon her stomach. "You weren't faking were you?"

"No," she replied between gasps. "Give me a couple minutes."

Eryck laid his head upon her stomach. "No hurry."

After some time, the faint sound of string music began to seep through an opened bedroom window.

Eryck lifted his head. "Am I mad, or do I hear music?"

Cerenna gestured to the window. "The planting festival is next weekend. The musicians come here to practice every day. Do you want me to send them away?"

"No. The music is beautiful."

"I think so too." Cerenna scooted out from under Eryck and walked nude to a second window, opening the pane to allow in more music. She next walked over to the corner of her bedroom to squat over her chamber pot. "That was good. You made me pee."

Too busy to have noticed, Eryck studied the damp bed sheets. Smiling, he rolled onto his back and wondered how he could be so happy on the eve of his death.

Cerenna refilled her glass of wine before returning to the edge of the bed. Taking a large sip, she set down the glass and picked up her jar of oil. "If you want, we can use the oil and do the other."

Eryck lifted his head from the mattress. "What other?"

"Anal."

"Why?"

Shrugging, Cerenna set the jar down on the nightstand. "Some guys like it?"

"I can't imagine it any better how nature intended. Have you done that before?"

"Yes."

"Did you enjoy it?" Eryck sat up. "Tell me honestly."

"Not particularly."

"Then why do it?"

She took hold of his hands. "To give pleasure, like you just did for me."

"Ya, but it wasn't uncomfortable for me. Plus, I had a good teacher." Eryck kissed her hands. "Who taught you?"

Cerenna's smile turned playful. "A woman from Dorne."

"A woman?"

"Yes. She was wonderful. Does that offend you?"

Smiling, Eryck kissed her hands again. "Not at all."

"Have you been with a man?"

"No," replied Eryck. "The thought never crossed my mind?"

Cerenna took a moment to stare into his eyes. "I believe you. I've asked other men this and could tell when they were lying." Tsking, she said, "Such brave knights, and yet a few of them were afraid of their true desires."

"Maybe that is why they want to do anal with you."

"No. I doubt that. Most are simply drawn to the forbidden." Cerenna gestured to the bottle of oil. "Let me know if you change your mind."

Eryck pulled her close and kissed her, the strawberry wine fresh on her lips. "If it's not pleasurable to you, then I'm not interested," he said, lying, for this new curiosity was now planted in his thoughts. "Do you know what I want to do next?"

"What?" replied Cerenna with a kiss.

"Listen to the music. Lie next to me, please,

Nodding, Cerenna took a long sip of wine as Eryck scooted back up onto the bed. Sliding under the covers, she lay with her back against Eryck, his arm wrapping tight around her.

As the string instruments played, Eryck felt every muscle in his body relax. The precise sounds from these skilled artists soothed him—more than any music produced by a street or tavern musician. Relishing the feeling of smooth bedding and flesh on his skin, he buried his face into Cerenna's hair and smelt the flowered scent left from her last bath. He closed his eyes, knowing that life could not get any better—especially for a fool.

_Author's note: I hope to get the final chapter out by Game of Throne's night; known as Sunday by some. If I don't make my deadline, it will be Monday afternoon at the latest. I'm always amazed how mentally exhausted I am at the end of my longer stories. What I'd give for a professional editor. I do try. :-)_


	20. The Purpose

**20 The Purpose**

Listening to the musicians, Cerenna and Eryck remained in bed when the outdoor rehearsal below her bedroom window ended with the setting of the sun. Shortly thereafter, the servants returned and prepared the small table in the bedroom with dinner. Once the servants departed, the lovers donned robes and moved to the table, but neither felt like eating.

Out of a strange curiosity, Eryck began sampling the various dishes he had never seen before. When he reached for a new dessert, he noticed the increased tremor in his hand.

Cerenna noticed too. She stood from the table and approached Eryck. She took his hand and kissed it as her robe fell open. Pressing his hand to her breast, she asked, "Are you ready for more satisfying dessert?"

Eryck did not think he could have intercourse again, but he did long to kiss her, that one particular desire ever unwavering. He stood and kissed her long and hard. He probed her lips with his tongue as his hand cupped her breast. Lost in the warm of her lips, he stood there kissing her until her hand gripped his penis. Not surprisingly, nothing happened.

Unable to ignore the growing emotional tension, Eryck's special day neared its end, and his eyes had become sullen. Reality had crept back into his consciousness, reminding him that her companionship was a fantasy—for he could never truly be with a woman as sophisticated and intelligent as Cerenna.

"Do you want to try on the bed?" she asked.

Reaching for her hands, he whispered, "I'm sorry. I'm done with that. Can I simply lay with you?"

"Sure," she whispered back.

Eryck brushed her blonde hair behind one ear. "I hope you're not offended that I can no longer…."

Smiling, Cerenna cupped his face and kissed him. "Don't be silly. It's not how your body reacts to me that makes me feel special. Come, let's rest on the bed."

Holding hands, the pair moved to the bed and slid under the bedding into each other's arms. Sharing the occasional kiss, the pair eventually became still as cold winds whistled at the windowsills. Eryck closed his eyes as he continued to hold Cerenna tight in his arms when his growing fear caused his body to shiver briefly. In an attempt to comfort him, Cerenna tightened her arms around his body as she pressed her forehead against his.

With no more words to share, he listened to her breathe, cherishing every second as his fingers drifted up and down her spine. With Cerenna's part of their bargain fulfilled, he lay in her arms terrified of what was to come—and yet, he somehow felt contented.

It was well past midnight when Eryck willingly pushed the bed covers away and rose from the bed. He pulled on his undergarments and turned to Cerenna, their shared look acknowledging that Eryck's time to fulfill his part of the agreement had come.

Donning her robe, she gestured to his garment draped over a chair. "You can put on your robe. It's cold in my study."

Eryck subtlety shook his head. "I won't need it for long."

Tying her cloth belt, Cerenna then slipped on a pair of simple shoes.

Eryck stared at her feet. "Don't you want to fully dress for your research?"

"No," she replied in a weak tone, clearing her throat afterward. "Oddly enough, I've lured so many knights down those steps with my body that I'm accustomed to doing my research in minimal clothing. The important research does not take much time. Other studies I'll return to later."

"I see." Eryck swallowed hard and said, "I need to pee."

Cerenna forced a smile. "Yes of course."

Eryck moved to the chamber pot and emptied his tightening bladder. When he set the pot down on the floor, Cerenna approached and hovered over the pot as Eryck began pacing the room. When he circled the table, he saw that the door to her bedroom was ajar. He stopped and stared aimlessly at the thin opening.

"If you must, you can leave."

Startled, Eryck turned to find Cerenna standing directly behind him.

"I will not be angry," she said. "I release you from our agreement."

He gazed into her somber eyes and sense she told the truth. He turned back to gaze upon the open door, recalling the life that awaited him: the backbreaking work, the absence of books, and the absence of love. _Could I start over? _he thought. _Could I find a life worth living?_

As he stepped towards the door, he wiped with a trembling hand the thin veil of clammy sweat from his forehead, fearful sweat that had begun to envelope his body. Rubbing his hand against his undergarments, he reached for the doorknob and gently closed the door—his promise to Cerenna more important than anything outside this room. He turned towards Cerenna and offered her his hand.

With widening eyes, she gripped Eryck's hand tightly and silently began to lead Eryck to the secret door that led down to her study. Using a lit candle, she passed the flame to a readied torch just inside the door before blowing out the candle. As the flame grew, she took up the torch and began leading Eryck down the spiral staircase, lighting other wall-mounted torches along the way.

When they reached the bottom, she lit three more torches before setting her carried torch into a wall holder. She released Eryck's hand and took a long thin candle, lighting the wick by one of the wall torches. With this smaller flame, she passed the light to the numerous candles on shelves and ledges spread throughout the small room.

As the room became illuminated, Eryck could more clearly see the wood table and the large bloodstain that had turned the center black in color, giving the oak a mahogany look. Without a body on the table, he noticed the carved out channels that also had been stained black from blood draining into holes on either side. Below the holes were shelves to hold collecting pots.

Eryck then touched one of the hinged restraints bolted to the table. The four restraints closed to a simple spring latched that did not require a lock.

Once the numerous candles throughout the dank room were lit, Cerenna moved to a small workbench and proceeded to light the candles lined up against the wall, leaving four thick candles made of a dark wax unlit. She next unrolled a ragged cloth to produce a pair of surgical knifes and a bone saw. Finally, she unrolled a silk cloth that produced a small dagger that gleamed in the candle light.

Eryck approached her table and stared at the knife, finding the steel almost blue in color, the surface perfectly polished and free of rust. "Will it hurt?"

"Yes." Cerenna looked at him, her eyes wide with excitement, but determined. "But only for a moment."

Noticing her steady hands, Eryck inspected his trembling hand before rubbing the cold sweat on his undergarments. His body shivered violently as his sweating increased. When he found Cerenna staring at him, he said, lying, "It's cold down here."

Without a response, she took the four dark candles and set them on the four corners of the table. She took one of the thin white candles and proceeded to light the newly set table candles before returning the tapered candle to its place on the shelf. She turned and faced Eryck, not saying a word.

Trembling, Eryck stepped over to the table and gripped the edge for stability. Tears had begun running down his face, beading below his chin. Hopping onto the table, he took a moment to wipe his tears before placing his ankles next to the open restraints. "Do you want to skip the locks? I won't fight you."

Clearing her throat, she replied, "No. I trust you, but sometimes the soul will fight to stay within its body. You could lose control."

"Better to be safe," commented Eryck as he placed his ankles into the restraints and waited for her to secure them.

Cerenna moved to the foot of the table where she reached for one of the latches; however, she paused and slowly withdrew her hand. "I can't."

"Didn't you restrain the knights?" asked Eryck, his voice staggering.

"Yes, but they weren't nearly as valiant as you."

"Oh." Taking a deep breath, Eryck leaned forward and closed each ankle restraint, pressing down on the steel until the latch mechanism clicked snug. He laid onto his back and put one wrist into a restraint at his side, closing the latch with his free hand. Finally, he slid his free hand into the restraint with the latch lying over his wrist, unlocked. Shifting his body, he pressed his hip upon the latch until he heard a single click.

Cerenna moved around the table and finished the tightening of the final latch. "Remember; as part of our agreement, you have to tell me everything you experience as you transfer between worlds."

When Eryck nodded his understanding, pooled tears flowed from his eyes as he attempted to restrain a pending wail. His body shook upon the table as he fought the urge to call out to the gods, old or new. He looked into Cerenna's surprisingly calm face and thought the woman mad—and yet, magnificent.

Returning to her workbench, Cerenna retrieved her knife. Holding the blade in offering, she approached the table speaking in a language Eryck did not recognize. She stepped to the table's edge and closed her eyes. When she finished her prayer, he eyes opened, releasing a single tear.

Eryck pulled against his restraints in the futile attempt to lessen his body's convulsing. He gazed into her eyes and said with his wavering voice, "I don't care if you don't want to hear it, but I love you."

Leaning over him, another tear rolled down her cheek. She kissed Eryck on the lips before saying, "I love you too."

Eryck felt a sharp poke in his left side that caused him to pull away. He looked down to see the knife penetrating his body, between the two lower ribs, arresting his breath. Before he could beg her to stop, she pulled the blade free. Sharp searing pain surged through his chest, causing him to scream out in pain.

"It's done," she said, her voice strained. "Puncturing your spleen is the swiftest way."

Pulling and twisting in the restraints, Eryck gasped for air as the searing pain made breathing difficult. Lifting his head, he watched his blood pulsate from the wound, flow down the side of his body, and collect into the carved out channels on the table.

Setting the knife on the table's edge, Cerenna gripped Eryck's arm. "Can you sense the other side?"

Eryck immediately felt his head begin to spin from the quick loss of blood. Resting his head on the table, he pulled against the restraints, replying, "No. I...I..."

"Most don't sense anything until their physical strength has evaporated."

Eryck looked into her spirited eyes and said, "I love you. And I hope you can forgive me for saying this, but you are insane."

Wiping away her tears, she smiled. "So they tell me."

Eryck slowly began rocking his head back and forth when he looked up at the stone ceiling above. He remembered seeing a glass prism hanging over the dead knight he witnessed prior on the same table. "The glass is missing. Don't you want to capture my soul?"

"No. I've decided to do something different."

Though he could feel his life inevitably slip away, her words gave him an added worry.

"I have a surprise for you," she continued. "I'm making you the commander of my knights. You will lead my army of resurrected light."

Bewildered, Eryck gazed into her eyes. "You're mad."

"After meeting you, I realized that I did not need the most brutal knight to lead my army. I needed someone of intelligence to help defeat the darkness. When you join the others, you must start the preparations immediately."

"Preparations for what?"

"Winter, and the war it will bring. The coming winter is not like before."

Speechless, he continued to stare at her as his head spun from blood loss. He sensed that she believed in her words, an idea that he thought preposterous. But Eryck also thought that living without knowing the purpose of life to be even more preposterous. Focusing on his words to keep them unwavering, he said, "As in this life, I will faithfully serve you in the next." When Cerenna smiled, Eryck felt a special warmth begin to fill his heart. Shivering less violently, he was glad that her face would be the last thing he would ever see.

Cerenna brushed his hair aside and kissed his forehead. "Now, tell me everything you are experiencing as you transition between worlds.

Keeping his eyes locked on hers, he swallowed and tried to concentrate through the fear and confusion. "I'm less cold, but I don't sense a different world." When pooling tears poured from his eyes, he said, "I'm sorry for crying."

"Shh. You have nothing for which to be sorry. You are one of the bravest men I have ever had the privilege to meet."

"Can you hold my hand?"

"Sure." Cerenna gripped his hand as she continued to stroke his forehead. "Can you hear anything different?"

His breathing had deepened, but he paused briefly between breaths to listen, hearing only his racing heart as it pulsated in his ears. "No. Nothing yet. Should I expect to?"

Forcing a smile, Cerenna replied, "I don't know. I have never had a willing volunteer before. We are in uncharted territory."

"If I can contact you from the other side, would you want me to?"

"Yes, of course, my darling."

Eryck then realized something he should have asked earlier. "Can you contact the other side?"

Cerenna squeezed his hand. "Yes. I send my knights updates. I've even told them that you will be their leader and to obey your command as if your order's come directly from me."

"Did they respond?"

"No. They cannot, but I know they have received my messages."

"How?" His mouth dry, Eryck struggled to swallow.

"It is not prudent to discuss this now."

Though her answer gave no relief, his admiration for the woman did not falter. Smiling, he gazed up at this Lannister lioness and thought, _Hear me roar!_

Her eyes drifted over his body. "You've stopped shaking."

"Have I?" Focusing on his muscles, he found them weak, but he was certain that he still gripped her hand. "Can you feel me squeezing your hand?"

"Yes. Can you feel me returning your squeeze?"

"Yes." Eryck then felt a calmness come over him like a warm blanket. "The fear is gone."

"Tell me everything."

"I still don't sense another world. And it's becoming harder to breathe." Finding the room darker, he squinted as he gazed up at Cerenna. "Did some of the candles go out?"

"No, darling."

"Oh." Realizing that his sight was failing, Eryck thought it strange that this lost sense did not concern him.

"How is your hearing?" asked Cerenna.

"Normal; I think." Eryck began to feel as if he was floating above the table. Squeezing his hand, he could no longer sense his friend. "Are you still holding my hand?"

"I am, my love." Cerenna moved closer to look into his eyes. "Can you feel me squeezing it?"

"No. Pinch me."

"Can you feel that?"

"No. Pinch me harder."

"I am."

Searching his remaining senses, Eryck felt even more detached from the world, but he could not detect any sign of an afterlife. And despite this, he accepted his death free of fear. He smiled at her and said, "Thank you."

"For what?" asked Cerenna as she brushed away her tears.

"My death. It's beautiful. It couldn't be more perfect."

Her face flushed with emotion, her voice broke when she said, "And I couldn't have asked for a better friend." She kissed him one last time on his lips before brushing his hair.

"I still don't sense a different world." Pausing to listen, the pulsing in his ears had disappeared. "I'm not hearing anything different. Mostly, I feel as if I'm floating in the middle of a warm lake."

When no response came, Eryck assumed his hearing had ceased. He could still smell her hair amongst the dampness of the study. He knew he was still alive, but just so. Without realizing it, his last sense faded as Eryck slipped into an eternal sleep, happily knowing that he had served his purpose in the world.

**The End**

_Author's note: Or is it the end? I am taking a giant leap of faith that the 'others' (a.k.a. the White Walkers as named by HBO), the ones who serve the dark, will have a counterpart serving the light. This would be Eryck's roll in the upcoming battle. I know this is a huge guess, but anything could happen in the Song of Ice and Fire series since so much more needs to be revealed. No character is safe, and the forthcoming explanation of this world's weather I so very want to know._

_The Princess and the Fool was a book that I never intended to write. Years ago, I wrote a poem called "The Princes and the Fool" for girl named Georgia (Myrielle). She thanked me for the poem and proceeded to give it to her boyfriend (Ser Jagger), who then threatened to kill me. Needless to say, I quickly moved on._

_Well, National Novel Writing Month was upon us last fall and I had an itch to write 50,000 words in a month just so I could say that I did it at least once. Not knowing what to write—though I have a half dozen books I want to write, this old poem came to mind since I could keep it short at the 50,000 goal. Set in the world of King Arthur and Merlin, I quickly decided that I did not want the original Georgia to be the princess. A woman named Tina (Cerenna) came to mind. This big-hearted woman is sweet as sugar and kind to all, but her "knights in shining armor" always turn out to be drunken losers. With the change, the idea that there should be sisters came to me, this adding depth and mystery to the story. I pushed out the rough draft in six weeks, making my 50,000 word goal on November 30th, completing the rough draft of the story mid December. The ending you see here is the original ending planned, but during the editing process, when I decided to changed the story to Game of Thrones fan fiction, other endings came to mind. (If curious, the Lannisters were named the Devon family in the rough draft.)_

_This is the first fan fiction I have written of an unfinished work. Since George R.R. Martin is renowned for throwing curve balls in his plot, I have decided to stay with my original ending. If Mr. Martin's next two books make it plausible to change the ending and to write a second fan fiction story with Eryck, I will. Nina the handmaiden did have a wonderful idea that Eryck should go to King's Landing and join the Citadel. Perhaps with a forged note of recommendation from Ser Daven he could. Perhaps he would leave Cerenna's bedroom when released from their agreement and leave Lannisport. Perhaps...perhaps…._

_Thank you for reading, and as with all my stories, I've made .mobi, .epub, and .pdf versions available for free at www dot stuartpidasso dot com._

_Stu_


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